For You I Was a Flame
by selfluminousbody
Summary: There comes a time in everyone's lives when things just suck. A year before the dead start eating people, Pippa reluctantly moves back to her old hometown, after falling on hard times. There she encounters an old flame and ignites a new spark. Rated M for explicit language and adult situations. Dwight/OC, Negan/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, Walking Dead characters, or any canon/ non-AU material. I only own my OCs and AU material. Enjoy!**

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There comes a time in everyone's lives when things just fucking suck. It always seems to come without warning, too. Like, why can't there just be a fucking system in place where you get a card in the mail, telling you to duck for cover? Everything's all birthday cake and red tulips from your mom and then, all of the sudden, the candles are blown out and everything's caped in dusk obscurity. Shadowed figures cheer and clap, because it's your birthday, while you silently feel the onset of darkness. And maybe you take a breath, or cry a tear, before telling yourself that the light will come again, because Mama said they'll be days like this.

But, you know what? Sometimes the sucky things don't fucking go away and the light doesn't come back. All those people who celebrated the day you were born either make futile attempts to recover you, or grow unsympathetic and impatient; telling you to get over it. In some way or another, they all eventually point the finger and say that you were the one who blew out the candles, so you must have been asking for your life to go from day to night in such an instant.

That's how life is sometimes. One minute everything's A-OK and the next thing you know, you're crying in the bathtub to your mom's Billie Holiday records. I'm always confused when people say that they have no idea when, why, or how their lives got so heavy. I get that there's no warning for calamity, but surely you don't forget the moment when it strikes, or what's left in the aftermath. I don't understand how something like that slips your mind. I know exactly- Oh, fuck!

The blue and red lights whirl in my side mirror, before I hear the lazy sounding siren bleep for me to pull over. I check my speedometer. Ten miles over the speed limit. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

I pull over to the shoulder of the empty road and check the rearview mirror to make sure he's still asleep in the back. I then glance at the cop car that's slowly pulled up behind me. There's two in the vehicle, but only the driver steps out. It's dark, so all I can tell is that he's got a ridiculously big cowboy hat and a real cock of the walk stride as he comes over. Once he's at my window, he knocks on it with a flashlight in his hand.

I roll the window down. "Evening."

"Evening." The handsome officer greets back with a gravelly, Georgia draw as he shines the light through my car. He lowers the light when he sees the sleeper in the back. "Know why I stopped you?"

"No."

"You were going 55, the speed limit back here's 45."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know," I softly lie. "I'm not from around here."

"Can I see your license and registration, please?" He says, coolly.

I get my registration from the glove compartment and my license from my purse in the passenger's seat. "Here ya go."

"Thank you," The officer holds the light up to read what I've given him, "You're from Austin? What brings you to Georgia?"

"Peaches." He doesn't look amused by my joking remark. "Nothing, I'm passing through," I answer plainly, checking the backseat again, "On my way to Virginia."

"D.C.?"

I shake my head. "No, my hometown, but it's not too far from there."

The cop returns my information, looking into the backseat again as he does. "Are you planning on driving through the night?"

"Just until I get tired."

He nods. "Well, there's a motel about fifteen miles up the road. It's not the four seasons, but it's clean. You should consider stopping for the night."

"Thank you, I will," I grin at him with a half- sarcastic smile, "So, you gonna write me a ticket?"

He puts his hands on his hips and contemplates. "Tell you what. It's late and the trees sometimes cover the speed signs, so I'll let you off with a warning, but watch your speed."

"Alright," I give a nod of the head, "Thank you, Officer Grim."

"It's Grimes and have a goodnight. Drive safe."

"I will," I roll up my window as he stalks back over to his car, "Prick."

I know exactly when my life unraveled like a itchy knitted sweater. How could I forget? I've spent bank on therapy and gin to try to work through it and forget it, but it's all been for naught. That misfortune royally screwed my life up and it happened thirteen years ago. Everyone who knows, my therapist included, have offered some sage wisdom about getting over it and I feel like most people would use that advice to have successfully found the light at the end of the tunnel. I, on the other hand, can't even turn on the lights.

It's not like I want to be this way, to feel this way. I want to "get better", as they say. I want to knock down walls and build myself up. I want to get that fucking light to come back again. But so far, I haven't been any good at what my therapist called "changing the lightbulb." Part of me isn't ready and it's fucking insufferable. That piece of me feels like only a thread, but it's strong and makes me lovesick for all before the agony.

For thirteen years, I've just kept on keeping on, even though everything still feels subdued and muted after all this time. I put on a good face and make like I'm cool. I'm so good at it that sometimes I even have myself fooled that I'm alright. But then, a familiar smell, or a stranger's laugh pulls me back in and I'm removed from everything and everyone. So, I just return to drinking gin and listening to the blues, because they're the only ones that understand.

Bright neon lights up ahead read "The Cherokee Rose" in white, loopy letters. Must be the motel that officer was plugging. I look at the clock on the radio that tells me it's almost midnight. I left Austin around two in the afternoon and have been driving practically non-stop, because I just want to get to point B already. I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I think about whether or not I should rent a room for the night.

When I actually see the motel, I determine that it'll be alright for him and I to stay there 'til morning. I turn into the lot, park, and then get out to walk to the other side of the car. I open the door and softly unbuckle his car seat, trying oh so delicately to pick him up without waking him. His limbs latch onto me, even though he's still sleeping and I make my way to the front office.

"I'd like a room, please." I whisper as I get to the front desk. The dude puts down his slice of pizza and grabs a room key from off one of the little hooks in the cabinet behind him on the wall. I check in and maneuver my debit card out of my purse for him to swipe.

"Room 14," The man says, running a knuckle under each nose, sniffing upwards, "It's on the bottom level."

"Thanks." I grab the key off the counter and go. I thought Officer Grimes said this place was clean. The front desk dude clearly put something up his nose before I got here. Whatever, it's for a few hours.

I unlock the door to the room and step inside, hitting the light switch that doesn't turn on the lights. The room is basic and has that typical motel carpet that smells like cigarette smoke, even though the placard on the wall clearly states "Please Do Not Smoke In The Rooms." A wild, hillbilly like holler can be heard down the way behind closed doors and a roar of laughter follows. I close the door and lock all the locks.

Next, I lay him down on the bed, over the stiff comforter, and drape his starry night blanket on him. I go to the bathroom, wash my face, and then kick my shoes off before getting on the bed. I twist my hair up and lay back to close my eyes.

 **...**

I wake up around six, because I get my eyelid poked by the only constant good in my life. He sticks his little finger up my nose and I swat it away, sleepily snickering.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Where are we?"

"Uh, Mommy was tired, so we stopped at a motel so I could sleep." I explain, sitting up and stretching.

"When are we gonna get to our new house?"

"Today."

"Really?" He smiles, showing his little milk teeth with excitement.

"Mhm," I nod, getting off the bed and going over to the sink, "So, we better get our booties moving, if we want to get there before dinner."

"Yay!" He stands on the bed and claps his hands. "Is Gran and Pop gonna be there, too?"

"Yep." I have no idea where my three year old got "Gran and Pop" from, but that's what he calls my parents. I get out my cell phone and decide to call them to let them know where we're at. While it's dialing, I point and mouth for him to go potty, which he does with the door cracked open.

"Hello?" My mother finally picks up. "Pippa, is that you?"

"Yeah, Mom, it's me. That's why my name came up on the caller i.d."

"Watch your mouth," She warns over the phone, "Where are you two at?"

"We're about to leave a sketchy motel in Georgia," I move back the curtains by the window after I hear some commotion outside, "I stopped for the night, because I got tired and the cop said this place was clean."

I witness a man that looks to be in his late forties, early fifties boot stomp a guy in the ribs out in the parking lot. I wince from the window and am glad to see a younger guy push the older one back. What a looker he is...

"Pippa!"

"What?"

"I asked if you got pulled over." My mom inquires, followed by a sipping sound.

"Oh, yeah, I did," I hear the toilet flush and go over to turn the faucet on, so he can wash his hands, "but he let me off with a warning."

"Speeding?"

"Ten miles over." I confirm.

"For God's sake, Pippa!"

I roll my eyes and turn the water off. "Gran's on the phone, you wanna talk to her?"

He nods his head yes and takes the phone, pressing it to his face. "Hi, Gran!"

"Hey, sugar pie!" She gushes over the phone with such cheery volume. "How's it goin', baby?"

"Good," He reports, putting his hand out so I can help him step off the chair he stood on at the sink, "Mommy let me have chicken nuggets for dinner."

"She did?" She says, as if it's just as exciting to her that I stopped at McDonald's last night, as it was for him.

"Can I sleep over at your house?"

My mom answers with something sunshiny, probably a yes, since that's where we'll be sleeping for the night when we finally get to Virginia. I put my shoes on and gather up our stuff.

"Bye!" He treads over to me and hands me the phone, exchanging it for his blanket.

"Hey." I greet again, nudging my son to the door.

"How much longer do you and Jolyon have before you get here?" She asks.

"I'm hoping to get in around five-ish, but we'll see," I tell her, "But look, I'm gonna let you go, so we can hit the road."

"Alright, honey, drive safe and see ya soon."

Jolyon and I exit the room and I quickly take his hand, guiding him to the front office and away from those two rednecks that just pulverized a man. The older one makes a smug, kissing motion towards me, while the other one just quietly rummages through the trunk of their old beat up Impala.

After checking out, I put Jolyon in his car seat and walk around to the driver's side. I ignore a crude catcall made by the same guy and get into my car. As I pull out of the motel parking lot, I hear him make a racial slur that causes the other one to look towards my car and then lower his head, before going over to the passenger's side of their car.

"Fucking rednecks." I say under my breath, hoping my kid didn't hear me say a swear word.

 **...**

I turn out to be right, because we arrive in Camden by five- fifteen. Camden's my hometown that I left after I graduated high school. I went to Texas for school to get my teaching credentials and haven't really been back since. After Jolyon was born, I made my appearances around the holidays, but aside from that I've intentionally made myself scarce.

But after the last couple of months I've had in Austin, I begrudgingly agreed to move back here. I managed to find a small two bedroom, two bath for rent before we moved. I also was able to nail down a job teaching English at a high school that's three towns over, but it's not too bad a commute and there's a daycare/preschool a block away that Jolyon can go to for free as a job perk. My mom wanted me to look for a job at my old high school, but I'd rather not work there and fortunately for me, they weren't hiring.

We pull up to my parent's house and they come out shortly after. "Hi," I wave, tiredly as I get out of the car.

"Hey, pipsqueak!" My dad smiles, raising his hand as he comes down from off the porch.

My mom opens the car door and reunites with her grandson, getting him out of the car for me. "You hungry?"

"Yes." Jolyon nods with a smile.

"Well, good, 'cause I just finished making spaghetti and meatballs." The two lovebirds go into the house, while my dad remains outside as I get one of the suitcases to take in.

"How was the drive?"

"Long." I answer, hugging him on our way to the house.

"You, uh, got everything settled in Texas?" Dad sounds slightly nervous to ask.

"Yep, everything's dealt with."

We enter my childhood home that has scarcely changed and head to the kitchen where Mom and Jolyon prattle on with each other. I'm not hungry, so I just sit down at the table and tiredly catch up.

"Oh, Pip, I forgot to tell you this morning over the phone that I've got some good news." Mom says, taking a sip of her chamomile tea.

"Oh yeah?" I look over at Dad who seems uneasy.

"Yes, I was talking to Leda and guess what? They're hiring."

I widen my eyes at her. "And you start Monday?"

"No, silly, you start Monday."

Dad anxiously chuckles, already feeling the tension. "I told you she wouldn't like it."

Mom looks between us in honest confusion. "What? It's just for a few weeks, until school starts."

"Mom, I don't want to work at Lorelei's," I groan into my hands, "I haven't worked there since I was in high school."

"Well, then when you start your new job, don't take anymore shifts." She smiles at Jolyon and scrunches her nose at him.

"I don't want the shifts I've apparently got now!"

"Pippa, I already told Leda that you'd be happy to accept the position."

I scoff. "Well, you shouldn't have told her that."

"Oh, c'mon," She encourages, "You sold everything back in Texas, so there's next to nothing to unpack and it's something to do instead of sitting around the house for five weeks."

I slide my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip, chagrined. "Fine, but they better have updated the uniform."

"They haven't." Dad relays.

 **...**

The next morning, after breakfast, Mom and Dad take me to the house I've rented. It's not too far from their house, about five miles or so. This town is technically considered rural, so there aren't any suburbs, except for the ones a few towns over. Not many houses are close to one another, so while you do have neighbors, they might be a ways up the road and separated by woods. Some homes are close to each other, but there aren't lawns and fences that neatly divide properties.

Camden's actually a nice town, despite me not wanting to come back here. It's one of those towns where pretty much everyone knows each other, no matter how unfortunate that might be. It's the type of place that people come to in the summer for the river and the winter for the cider. And all the tourists come year round for the pie. Four years ago, it was put in one of those magazines that only the Martha Stewart types and mid- thirties, Brooklyn hipsters read in order to find some quaint, new place to get their organic honey and rave about an authentic, mediocre 50's diner.

Like I said, it's a nice town and I may never have strayed far, if it weren't for what happened here that made everything go dark. My mom's going on about the bungalow style house that I am just gonna love. She acts as if I haven't seen it; I saw pictures online when I was house hunting.

My parent's are some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. Mom's hospitality is genuinely hospitable, not trying like some people's, and Dad is the kind of guy who you aren't afraid to bring boys home to meet, because you know he won't scare them off, if they're nice enough. They both can strike up a conversation with just about anyone and have always been supportive of my sister and me.

"There it is!" Mom points out as we come up on it.

"Yeah." I take it in from the backseat window. I guess it's cozy looking as the advertisement claimed.

The four of us explore the one story house and I don't really have any complaints, since there's no carpet for Jolyon to spill something on and the windows in the front and back of the house give off a view of the woods around us.

"This is such a lovely house!" Mom concludes in a way that implies she's trying to convince me. "You and Jol will have a good home here once you furnish it and you're all settled in."

"Mhm," I nod, "real lovely."

"Look, sweetheart, if you don't want to work at Lorelei's, then I'll call Leda and tell her that you're too busy. She'll understand." Mom puts a hand on my back and rubs soothingly. "I just thought that it'd be a good way to reenter society."

"Reenter society?" I laugh at her choice of words. "I was in Texas, Mom, not prison."

"You know what I mean, smart ass."

"Yeah," I look out at the foliage in the back, "I know what you mean."

We go back to my Mom and Dad's house and bring back all the stuff I brought with us from Austin, which is mostly just clothes and a few bits and bobs. Pretty much just whatever my 97' Jeep Cherokee could carry. I sold everything else for money to replace things that weren't worth bringing. Once we get it all in, Mom insists we go to the store to pick up some food.

She tells me all about my sister, Audrey, and how her, her husband, and their three kids are doing in Richmond. I don't want to seem like a bitch, but I couldn't be any more uninterested if I fucking tried. She forgets that Audrey and I talk at least twice a month over the phone. Plus, my head's not here for it right now. I've got a lot on my plate and I'm just not stoked to hear about how they just got a beagle and named it...well, I don't fucking know what they named it, because I wasn't listening.

"Are you buying yogurt?" I scoff, watching her put a tub of plain yogurt in her cart.

"Yeah, so?"

"Since when do you buy yogurt?"

"Since Audrey was Jolyon's age," Mom answers, reaching for some butter, "you kids always loved yogurt."

"Yeah, we did, but I never saw you eat any damn yogurt."

"Well, that was before I read about the benefits of eating it. It's a good source of calcium, which is good for bones, especially at my age. And it's got good bacteria in it."

"Good bacteria?" I raise a brow as I put a gallon of milk in my cart. "Okay, what's so great about this good bacteria that's convinced you to buy a tub of yogurt?"

"It's good for stomach problems," She informs me, before leaning closer, "And I heard it's good for the under carriage."

I laugh out loud. "Oh, well, then it-" I stop abruptly right before we turn down an isle, pulling my cart with me.

"What's the matter?" Mom looks at me strangely.

"Uh, you know what? I forgot to get Lucky Charms and I told Jolyon I would get some."

"No, you didn't forget, they're right there." Mom points to the red cereal box in my cart.

"Um, nope, that's Apple Jacks."

"They've got a green box."

I shake my head, turning the cart around the other way. "They changed the packaging," I pathetically lie, "You go ahead and I'll just be right back."

"Alright." Mom goes down the spice aisle alone.

The store's fairly empty, so if she talks to the man down that same aisle, I'll be able to hear them before I reach the cereal. So far, nothing. My mom wouldn't just ignore him if she recognized him. I don't hear any talking, so now I feel like an ass.

I cruise down the aisle, sticking a box of oatmeal in my cart, and heading back over to find my mother. I lower my head, using my curly hair to shield my identity as I spot the dude that was down the aisle I retreated from. From the corner of my eye, I can see that it's not who I thought it was, so I straighten up and roll my eyes at myself. I'm such a fucking idiot.

 **...**

The past three weeks have been ridiculously slow. Even though I really didn't want to, I started working at Lorelei's to make Mom happy. Lorelei's is that authentic, mediocre 50's diner I mentioned earlier. The food's not bad, the locals alone keep it in business, but the decor is so overplayed. I worked here when I was in high school and they still have the same pastel pink waitress dress with an apron as the uniform that they've had since the place opened in the actual fifties. It's weird how a diner that was actually founded in '54 can be so heinously over wrought with kitschy decorations that may not be all that vintage.

Leda, the lady who inherited the joint from her mother, and a long time friend of my mom's was delighted to see me working here again. I tried to act all ecstatic, too, but I'm not too fucking keen on waiting tables for eight hours. It's not like I'm above doing the work, or anything like that; it's just that I don't want to talk to any of the locals that recognize me, or that Leda points me out to, and give some bullshit about how "good, good" I've been since they last saw me. It's also a little inconvenient, since I'm still trying to get everything in order at the house.

Tonight, I have the late night shift that's more like the wee fucking hours of the morning shift. Jolyon's sleeping over at my parent's for the night and they're planning on taking him to the river so I can catch a few hours of sleep before running a shit ton of errands. Jolyon's the best thing to ever happen to me. I know that sounds cliché, but he really is.

I know I said earlier that my life was fucked up, but in all fairness, it's more me than the entirety of my life. I, as a person, am a cave of despair, but my life's not all heavy and terrible. Jolyon's the reason my whole life can't be described as fucked up. It's hard to claim, when that little boy makes every day worth it with his unconditional love, innate curiosity, and trail of broken crayons he leaves in his wake.

"Want something to eat?" Louis, the late night cook, asks from the kitchen window that looks out on the restaurant.

"No, thanks." I reply, while cleaning the laminated menus with disinfectant spray.

This shift is the fucking worst. I know some of the other waitresses complain about the swing shift, because it's usually the busiest, but I'd take it over graveyard. Why does the diner even need to be open this late, huh? Who's the fucking asshole that goes out to eat at two a.m.? We've been sitting here since midnight without a single goddamn customer and apparently we're not allowed to shut off the fucking jukebox; it's just set on a lower volume.

"Head's up." Louis says, nodding for me to turn around.

The sound of a truck pulling into the lot has me turn in the swivel barstool. A trucker; the one person who I guess would eat this late. I sigh, rolling my shoulders and getting off the stool. I go behind the counter to get out a coffee mug that I assume he'll be wanting. The door opens, letting in the cool night air. My peripheral vision observes the figure walking over to one of the booths and sliding in. Sure, don't sit at the counter and make shit easier.

I pull up the swing door and come up from behind him. "Welcome in," I greet with an unenthusiastic tone, "Can I get you some coffee?" I set down the mug and a menu before he can answer and go back to the get the pot.

"Uh, yeah, thanks." He rasps, clearing his throat.

The trucker has straggly blonde hair just at his shoulders. He's young, about my age, but that's all I can tell from here since he's got his hands over his face with exhaustion. I pour the crappy roast into his cup. "Want any milk, or creamer?"

"Milk, please." He says into his hands, before sitting up. His eyes meet mine and the tiredness gets stunned out of him. "Pippa?"

I stare at the very person I've been hoping to avoid since my return. "Hey, D."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey." He greets back, staring at me like I'm a ghost. "You...you're here. In town, I mean."

"I moved back." I fold my arms, nervously holding my elbows.

"Oh," He says, still dumbfounded, "how long have you been in town?"

"Three weeks," I answer, turning my attention to the truck he was driving outside, "I, uh, rented a place on Sloane."

"Cool."

I remember why I'm still standing here, despite wanting to evaporate, and reach into the pockets of my apron. "Do you need more time, or are you ready to order?"

He blinks, disoriented, and glances at the menu. "Uh, yeah, yeah. I'll get the, uh, the house omelet."

"Side of hashbrowns, or toast, or both?"

"Both."

I nod, writing it down while my eyes stay glued to him. "White, whole wheat, or sourdough?"

"Sourdough."

"Alright, comin' right up." I give him the scripted line and tread over to clip the order to the wheel for Louis. I tuck my hands in my apron and look at him from behind the counter. Besides having longer hair, the makings of a beard, and being biologically older than when I last saw him, Dwight doesn't seem like he's changed a bit. I look over to Louis in the kitchen. "I'm gonna take my ten, if that's alright."

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead, hon."

I walk outside and go around to the side where I can smoke. When I got pregnant with Jolyon, I stopped smoking and didn't pick it back up until six months ago. I've tried to kick it again, but the only thing I can brag about is that it takes me three weeks to finish a pack. As I make my way to the designated smoking area, my eyes make contact with Dwight's as I pass the window and he watches me do so.

The stark morning has a breeze, but it's sort of warm out, so I don't mind. I light a cigarette and smoke slowly, fully intending to take the whole ten minutes of my break. After those ten, short minutes pass, I put it out and go back inside. Perfect timing too, because Louis works fast and rings the bell as soon as I walk in.

"Order up!"

I take D's omelet and side of toast in both hands, while balancing the hash browns on my forearm. "Here ya go."

"Thanks." He replies, as I set down the plates.

"Enjoy." I grin and then go back over to the counter to pour myself some coffee. I wipe down the counter that doesn't need to be wiped down, stealthily staring at him.

"Could I get some more coffee?" Dwight shyly asks me after a few minutes.

"Yeah, sure." I take the pot over to him.

"Thank you."

"You bet." I look towards my cup on the counter. "How's everything tasting?"

"Good, thanks."

I walk back to the counter and pick my coffee up and go over to his booth. "It's been awhile," I say, sliding into the seat across from him, "How have you been?"

"Uh, good, good," Dwight dumps a packet of sugar in his coffee, "How about you?"

"I'm doing alright," I bleakly smile, reaching for the little thing of milk I brought over, "Getting by."

"Good. So, you've moved back here, huh?"

I stir milk and sugar into my coffee. "Yeah...um, I fell on some hard times and needed a change. My folks have been begging me to move back for a while and so, I figured it'd be nice to be close to family."

"Yeah, I bet..." Dwight replies, clearing his throat, "I see them around from time to time and they're always as nice as ever."

"Yeah," I chuckle into my coffee, " well, they never change." I peer out the window at the rig parked out front. "So, you drive trucks?"

"I do," He nods, looking out as well, "I work for a brewery."

"Oh, where do I send my resumé?" I retort and he snickers, which makes me smile more confidently.

"I'm starting a new job in about a month or so." He takes a bite of toast.

"Where at?"

"I'm gonna be driving a truck still, but just for a fuel company," D explains, "It's riskier, but it pays more."

"I'd hope so," I put my crossed arms up on the table, "I thought you were gonna go into the Army?"

He nods his head. "Yeah, I did, but I didn't re-up after serving my four years."

"Oh, how come?"

D's thumb rubs against his ring finger, which I suddenly notice has a wedding ring. "Sherry didn't want me to."

My eyes move from his wedding ring to him. "Sherry? Sherry McKee?"

"Uh, yeah, we...we got married."

I take up my coffee and sip it. "Wow, that's...that's great," I smile at him, "How long have you two been married?"

"It'll be thirteen years in September."

I hold my smile. "Thirteen years in September, wow. I didn't even know that you dated."

"Yeah, we starting dating shortly after graduation."

"Well, congratulations," I point to his side of the table, "Do you want me to clear anything off the table for you?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," He claims, shaking his head," So, what about you? I thought you wanted to teach?"

"Yeah, I'm actually starting a new teaching job in two weeks."

"Really? At Camden High?"

"Oh, no. It's three towns out," I answer, "Southcastle High School."

"Ah," Dwight taps his finger on the table, "So, did you move here with your husband, or..."

"No, I'm not married," I snicker, briefly looking down into my cup, "I moved here with my kid."

"Kid?" D sounds somewhat taken back. "You've got a kid?"

"Yeah, a son; Jolyon. He turned three in February."

He nods for the fiftieth time. "That's great."

I glance over at the I Love Lucy clock on the wall. "So, did you just get back from a delivery, or something?"

"Yeah, I did."

"How come you're eating here, instead of at home? It's late."

Dwight sighs, taking a look at his wristwatch. "Yeah, well, I was hungry and I didn't want to wake Sherry; banging pots and pans around the kitchen, you know?"

"Sure." I nod, sitting back in my seat. "Would you like the check?"

"Yes, please. I should head home."

I get up from the booth and go retrieve his check for him. "Here."

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. I spy a little wallet sized photo that seems like it's of him and Sherry. He puts down a twenty-dollar bill.

"I'll be back with your change."

"No, keep the change," D stands up from the booth, "as a tip, I mean."

"Okay, thanks." Who am I to turn down a fourteen-dollar tip?

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Well, it was good seeing you again."

"Likewise." I smile, putting my hands in my apron.

"I guess I'll see ya around."

"Yeah, maybe."

Dwight smiles back at me. "Bye, Pippa."

"Bye."

Dwight leaves the diner and looks back over his shoulder at me as he walks over to the truck he came in. I don't clear the table until his truck disappears out of sight down the road.

 **...**

"Mommy!" Jolyon runs up the porch steps.

"Hey, baby!" I scoop him up in my arms. "How was the sleepover?"

"We made snores." He smiles.

"You made snores?" I laugh, kissing his cheek. Snores are what Jolyon calls s'mores. "Did you miss me?"

"No," He giggles.

"No?" I smile at him, while waving at my dad. "Should I pack up your stuff and let Pop take you home to keep, then?" I poke his belly. "Huh?"

"No, I live with you!" Jolyon laughs.

I kiss his cheek again, before putting him down. "That's what I thought."

"Here." Dad hands me the little backpack I dropped Jolyon off with.

"Where's Mom?" I ask.

"Lunch with the girls."

"Oh," I nod, slinging Jolyon's backpack over my shoulder, "What are you up to for the rest of the day?"

"Nothin'," Dad claims with a grin, "I don't mean nothin' as in I don't have plans."

"You mean nothin' as in you're planning on doing nothin'." I finish his quip with a laugh.

"That's right," He chuckles, "See ya later, pipsqueak."

"Hey, wait a minute," I step down one porch step, "You know who I saw last night while I was working?"

"Dracula?"

I chuckle, shaking my head no. "Dwight Rollins."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, did you know he was married?"

"Yeah, I had heard...but that was awhile ago," Dad scratches his scruff, "You didn't know?"

"How could I have known? I haven't really been back since I left."

Dad shrugs. "I don't know."

I squint a little, studying his expression. "Why did you think I knew?"

"Oh, I don't know, I figured your sister or mother told you."

"Well, they didn't."

He looks me over. "Well, I'll see ya later, honey."

"Bye, Dad."

I decided to take Jolyon with me to run errands, since the weather got a little windy overnight and the river would be too choppy to swim in. I have to go pick up some shit from the school I'll be teaching at and I figured I would go to this store in the same area for a new comforter.

I put in an audio book, so Jolyon will nap on the car ride over. As I drive, my mind wanders away from narrator and back to Dwight. Dwight and I have known each other since grade school. We didn't become friends until the second grade, after we had to be safety buddies on a field trip to the zoo two hours away and bonded over the nocturnal exhibit. We became sweethearts in the eighth grade when he asked me to the spring dance and then dated throughout high school. We broke up about a month before we graduated and after that, we never saw, or spoke to each other again.

It's not like we planned on estrangement, but it happened. Dwight was my first love and the breakup, or more specifically the circumstances that led to that, was devastating. And I mean what I say, so I'm not being fucking dramatic when I say devastating. Remember when I said that I knew the exact moment of when everything started to dull? Well, what caused our breakup thirteen years ago was the very moment the lights went out.

My life was perfect up until that moment. I was an honor student, captain of the cheer team, editor-in-chief of our school's newspaper, pitched for our softball team, and I even had a lead part in the school's musical. And Dwight, I had Dwight. He played baseball, so I never formally cheered at any of his games, but I was always in the stands, hollering, and he'd always do the same for me. I know a lot of people say that when you're young you don't really know what love is, you just have schoolyard crushes that you perceive to be more than what they actually are; but that wasn't what Dwight and I had.

We were in love and I don't fucking care how eye- rollingly unoriginal that sounds. We talked about life after school the way I suppose that most high school sweethearts do, but as we got older, the plans became more realistic and pragmatic and better than some white picket fence in the happily ever after pipedream. Then, out of nowhere, the candles were blown out and everything became more complicated and our relationship dissolved like sugar in coffee.

The high school looks like any other school in a small town. Plain and optimistic with "Home of the Vikings" on the electronic information board. It's empty, since school doesn't start for two more weeks, but the main office is open. The principal was supposed to give me a quick tour of the grounds, but apparently decided to go play golf instead. So, the secretary, Diane, gives Jolyon and I the tour.

She gives Jolyon a sucker and so he's pretty much silent through the whole tour, except to ask what sort of games are played in the gymnasium and if they serve pizza for lunch. Irrelevant for him, since he's three, but Diane finds it cute. She shows us to the classroom where I'll be teaching and claims that I can decorate it if I want to.

"Mommy, can we go play with the basketballs?" Jolyon asks as we walk down the halls.

"Honey, the basketballs are locked away in the equipment room." I brush a hand over his head.

"Can we go outside and play catch?"

"No, Jol, that's locked away, too."

"Someone likes sports," Diane laughs, "Does he and his father play a lot?"

I look down at Jolyon. "No, his dad's...not in the picture."

"Oops, sorry." She glances away, embarrassed.

"Mommy plays catch with me." Jolyon informs her.

"That sounds like so much fun." She smiles at him.

"I played softball in high school." I casually tell her. I was planning on playing in college, but only lasted half a season, before I got cut. It was my fault, I didn't put my all into it and skipped practices for no reason, other than I just didn't want to go.

"Oh, maybe you could coach our softball team," Diane suggests, "The gym teacher that usually coaches always makes the girls nervous."

"A real hard ass, huh?"

"Mommy, you said a swear word!"

"Sorry, baby," I apologize, while Diane giggles, "Too rough?"

Diane looks over her shoulder, as if this coach might be lurking around the fucking corner. "Well...yes. Yes, he is."

I snicker. "So, the girls want a coach that isn't going to yell at them, or something?"

She chuckles nervously. "The yelling's not the issue."

"Oh," I take Jolyon's hand when he reaches out for mine, "So what's the problem?"

"Uh...I think they get a little distracted by his looks."

I guffaw lightly, remembering those days. "I take it he can pull off gym shorts?"

Diane just smiles, uneasily. "I don't feel right about saying this, but...no, I'm not gonna say anything bad."

"Alright."

"It's just that he's..." She stops herself, "No, never mind. You two have a nice day. It was a pleasure to meet you." She shakes both mine and Jolyon's hand, which he gets a kick out of, and we leave.

"I'm hungry."

"Yeah? Let's get some lunch."

 **...**

Jolyon and I stop at a pancake house that also serves lunch and we eat. I'm not too hungry, but I order a turkey club anyway. Jolyon sits on his knees, dipping every single bite into ketchup before consuming it. He's half distracted by the paper placemat that the waitress gave him with a little box of four crayons. He broke them all in half, because he holds them wrong and presses down too hard on the paper.

I briefly flicker through the packet of papers Diane gave me in a manila envelope. It's a bunch of curriculum shit that just expects me to teach the bare minimum, which I think is fucking malarkey. There's also some school rules, teacher-to-student procedural conduct, and an emergency contact form to fill out.

"Oooh, look at that one!" Jolyon sticks his ketchupy finger on the window, pointing to another dog that's strolled by with its owner.

I put all the paperwork back in the envelope. "Yeah, that's a cute one."

Jolyon cackles. "She looks like a hotdog."

"How do you know it's a girl dog?" I ask, mildly curious.

"Because it doesn't have a wiener."

The old waitress looks at him and then me, appalled. "Here's the check, whenever you're ready."

"Thanks." I smile, moderately embarrassed. I hear a husky, throaty laugh coming from three booths behind me and I can't fight a small smile as I get into my purse. The waitress returns shortly to pick up my debit card and to take our plates away.

"Would you like a box?" She asks, still unimpressed at my three year old's innocent observation of the wienerless wiener dog.

"Uh, no thank you."

"Mommy, do boy dogs have boobs?"

The crone huffs and stalks off with our plates. What like her kids never asked questions about dog anatomy? Meanwhile, another laugh from the same man three tables away makes me snicker through my nose. "Yes, but let's not talk about it here, okay?"

"Why come?"

" _How_ come," I softly correct, "and because that's an at home question."

"Can they feed babies like girl dogs?"

"No, I don't think so," I hand him a napkin, "Wipe your face and hands, please."

The waitress gives me a rigid, Puritanical face and drops the receipt on the table. What, no mints? I leave her a fair tip, despite the bitchy judgment, because I hate lousy tippers and then help Jolyon off his seat.

"Have a lovely day." She calls over to us with a rude inflection in her tone.

I cover Jolyon's ears. "Go fuck yourself, you old witch."

The one man audience laughs at my remark, probably being the only one who heard it. We cross the parking lot to the car and I reach my hand down to get into my purse for the keys. Oh, shit...I left my purse in there.

"Hey!" A booming voice calls out and I turn around to see one tall, dark, and handsome stride my way with my orangey- brown leather purse on his shoulder and packet of school papers under his arm. "You fuckin' left these in the restaurant."

I take my purse and envelope from him. "Thanks."

"You, uh, teaching at the high school?" He asks, working his eyes up to mine with a dimpled grin. "The envelope has the school seal on it."

"Uh, yeah, I start two weeks from Monday." I answer, while buckling Jolyon into his car seat.

"Whatcha teachin'?"

I arch my brow at him, now giving him a look over. "English," I flatly respond, walking over to the driver's side, "Thanks again."

 **...**

I offer to switch shifts with another waitress, because her daughter's got a fever, so I'm fucking back to the dreaded graveyard shift. I could've said no, but I felt bad since I can empathize with having a sick kid. It just sucks, because I promised Jolyon we'd go to the river before school starts in two days and I was suppose to take him today, but I might be too tired after getting off at six in the morning.

It's a usual night, empty, because almost everyone on this side of the goddamn world is fucking asleep. After my fourth cup of coffee in the last hour in a half, I go out to take my smoke break. Since there aren't any customers, I figured I could smoke on the bench right out front, so that I'm not alone in the dark on the side of an old diner. What a horrible place that would be to be murdered.

I look back through the window and see that it's three in the morning. We haven't had a customer at all, but we're not allowed to close down, because this is a twenty-four hour diner. A stray cat saunters in the parking lot with no fear of human presence, as it makes it's way to the nearby woods to hunt for mice. I want a cat. It'll solve the mice problem that I think I might be having.

A flatbed truck with a camper shell pulls into the lot and parks in one of the farther spots, despite the parking lot being utterly vacant. The driver gets out and comes around into view. I take a drag from my cigarette, tapping the ash off the end, as Dwight walks up.

"Hey." He holds his hand up in greeting.

I exhale smoke from my lips. "Hey, D."

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his own cigarette and lighter. "How've you been?"

"Fine," I cross my leg over the other, "Yourself?"

"Same." D moves his cigarette from his lips.

I itch my middle finger that's got mine between it. "That your car?"

"Yeah."

I nod thoughtfully, "So, that must mean that you didn't come from work."

Smoke exits through his nostrils. "Actually, I did. I left the rig at the yard, since the company owns it and because today was my last delivery for them."

"Oh, cool." I flick my cigarette on the ground. "Can I get you some coffee and a menu?"

He nods, taking another drag. "Yeah, please."

I go back into the diner, while he finishes smoking outside. I get a mug out and pour in some freshly brewed jet fuel. Dwight comes in and sits where he did nearly two weeks ago. I bring him his coffee and menu like I would any other customer. "Would you like to hear our specials?"

"Sure."

"Oh, well, that's too fucking bad, because we stop serving the specials at midnight, so you can only have what's on the menu."

D chuckles under his breath. "Then why'd you ask?"

"Because I'm suppose to," I smirk, "We do have some blueberry pie and ice cream left over, if you want some."

"Uh, yeah, alright."

"Can I getcha anything else?"

"Mm, maybe some eggs and toast. Over easy and sourdough."

"Comin' up." I stroll behind the counter and peer into the kitchen, where Louis is sleeping on a stool with his back against a wall. I ring the bell twice. "Eggs over easy and a side of sourdough toast!"

Louis blinks himself awake. "Over easy with a side of sourdough, comin' up."

I turn back towards Dwight. "Do you want the pie now, or after?"

"Now's good." He stirs his coffee.

I lift up the glass dome and take the pie off the cake stand. I fetch the vanilla ice cream from the freezer and then proceed to cut him a slice of pie. I sling a dollop of vanilla on top and bring it over with a fork.

"Thanks."

"No problem." I grin and just as I do so, I hear my phone ring in my purse from under the counter. That's the one good thing about the graveyard shift; it's just two workers and neither of us are going to snitch on each other if we take a longer break, or answer calls. I fish out my phone and see that it's my mom. "Hello?"

"Pippa?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, Mom, it's me. What's the matter?"

"Are you busy?"

"It's three- twenty in the morning, so yeah, we're slammed."

She groans tiredly. "Don't be such a snot."

"What'd you call for?" I lean on the hand I've got on the counter.

"Well, Jolyon woke up crying, saying he had a bad dream and wanted you," Mom explains, "So, I told him that you were at work, but I'd try to call you."

"Alright, put him on." I decide to cut myself a slice of pie. I hear my mom gently talking to my boy, while Dwight casually looks over at me.

"Mommy?"

"Hi, baby," I perk my voice up, "Did ya have a bad dream?"

"Yeah," He sniffs over the phone, "Can you come get me?"

I take a deep, sighing breath. "Sorry, baby, I've got to work for a little bit longer, but how about I come straight to Gran and Pop's as soon as I'm done?"

"Okay."

"Okay? Go back to sleep for Gran and when you wake up, I'll be there."

"You pinky swear?"

"I pinky swear," I promise, holding up my pinky, even though he can't see.

"What if the bad dream gets me again?"

"Just say what we always say before bed," I scoop some ice cream onto my plate of pie, "Good dreams in, bad dreams out, good dreams in, bad dreams out."

"Okay."

"Alright."

"Bye, Mama."

"Bye, baby. Love you."

"Love you, too." He hangs up the phone without giving it back to my mom. I sigh, putting my phone back into my purse.

Louis taps the bell. "Order up."

I take D his eggs and toast, then put away the ice cream and toss the empty pie pan in the sink to soak. "Was that your son?"

I glance back at Dwight. "Yeah, he's spending the night at my parent's and had a bad dream."

"How old did you say he was?"

"He's three," I caravan my pie and coffee over to his booth, sitting down, "technically, three and a half."

Dwight nods at his eggs. "You're gonna think this is rude, but I forgot what you said his name was."

"Jolyon," I say, cutting a piece of pie with my fork.

"Right, sorry."

I shrug, sticking the bite in my mouth. It's so good; my eyes roll back a little. "Don't be. People forget it, or get it wrong all the time. Sometimes I think I should've just named him Julian."

He grins and we're silent for a little while as we eat.

I take another bite of this orgasmic pie and sip some coffee. "I forgot to ask you the last time, if you and Sherry had any kids."

Dwight's eyes flicker to me and then back at his eggs. "Uh, no," He shakes his head, "No, kids."

"Oh," I push some melting ice cream around with my fork, "why not? You know what? Don't answer that; it's none of my business."

"No, it's okay," He assures me, nonchalantly, "We want kids, but Sherry wants to wait for the right time."

"When's that?" I close my eyes and shake my head. "You don't have to answer that."

D chuckles, somewhat timidly. "It's cool. Um...I don't know, when she's ready, I guess."

I nod, understandably. "So, what does she do?"

"She works at the bank as a teller."

"Oh, nice. Your mom still work there?"

"Yeah, she got Sherry the job."

"How is Caroline?"

"Same old, same old."

"That's good," I always loved Dwight's mom and grandpa, " How about your grandpa? What's he been up to?"

Dwight's glance lowers down to the table. "He, uh, died."

I'm sullened by this news. "Oh, no. What? I'm so sorry to hear that. I...I didn't know."

"Well, how could you have?"

"When did it happen?"

D scratches his eyebrow. "About three years ago. He died of pneumonia. February's one cold fuckin' month."

"Yeah," I murmur, "That sucks. He was such a nice man." I rest my cheek on my fist in a sad pout.

He gazes at me and the corners of his mouth tip upward. "You haven't changed all that much."

"Really? 'Cause I'm still packing twelve pounds of baby weight."

Dwight smiles, humored. "You look good."

I glance down at my plate. "Well, I moisturize."

He shifts in his seat to get out his wallet. "Thanks for the pie."

"It's my job."

D puts a twenty on the table. "Keep the change."

I get to my parent's house around six- twenty and from there I go into my old bedroom where Jolyon is. I remove my uniform and shoes, throw on an old t-shirt, and then climb into bed to get a few hours of shuteye.

 **...**

"When Mommy?" Jolyon asks in the backseat.

"We just have to go to one place and then we'll go straight to the river, I promise." I tell him as I accidentally run a red light. "Shit."

I got a call from this store about a comforter set I ordered the other day when Jolyon and I went to go pick up my school packet. Jolyon's wearing his swim shorts and trying to put his water wings on, while sitting in his car seat.

We get into the shopping square parking lot and I rove around to find a parking space. As I pull into a spot, a car horn honks angrily. I look over my shoulder to see what the fucking fuss is about, but the car speeds around out of sight. Jolyon and I walk hand in hand to the shops and I entertain his whims about what we're going to do when we get to the river.

"Hey!" A thunderous voice yells behind us. I turn around and am a little shocked to see that it's the same man who brought me out my purse from the pancake house, like two weeks ago. "Do you fucking know what a fucking turn signal means?"

"Excuse me?"

The guy points his thumb over his shoulder. "That fucking parking spot you just fucking pulled into? I had my fucking turn signal on for it and you whipped the fuck into it anyway!"

I stare at him in astonishment and brewing anger, before peeking over to where I parked.

"Mommy, he said swear words." Jolyon whispers.

"Look, man, I didn't know, alright?" I respond with a composed tongue. "I'm sorry, but how about you watch your mouth in front my son?"

"Oh, right," He chuckles coolly, "Because you set such a good fucking example." He stalks off and I flip him the bird as he does, which only makes him laugh and give it right back to me as he continues to go.

"Dick." I say low enough to not catch any grief from Jolyon.

As promised, we get in and out and off to the river we go. Well, that was the plan anyway...

About twenty miles down the road, I realize that one of my tires is low. I pull off to the side of the road and get out of the car and...behold! The back fucking tire on the driver's side has got some kind of metal thing stuck in it.

"Fucking really?" I curse, going to the trunk where I have a spare.

"Mommy!"

I go over and open the door. "Mommy's got to change the tire real quick and then we'll go."

"Can I eat my Cheetos?" Jolyon asks.

"Yeah, sure." I stopped at this little deli that was in the shopping square and got some lunch for when we're at the river, including a little bag of Cheetos. I pull open the bag and give them to him to eat in his car seat.

Just about the time I get my tire out of the trunk, a car pulls up behind me. I glance over and scowl. Fucking really?

"Need some help?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." I roll the tire over to the side.

"Do you have a fuckin' jack?" The asshole that just went off on me in the parking lot asks.

I stand up and put my hand on my hip. "I've got a tire iron."

He grins and breathes in a throaty laugh. "Damn, honey, I'm just tryin' to fuckin' be nice here."

"Did you follow me?" I try not to sound paranoid, but you never know who's going to hold a grudge over a stolen parking space.

"Did I-? No, I'm going home," He scoffs, pointing straight ahead, "I live down the fucking road from here."

I glance down the road. "Well, be on your way, then. I don't need help."

"So, you do have a jack?"

My eyes look to the trunk. "No, but, I-"

"Then how the fuck are you gonna change that damn tire?"

I mull over my very limited options, before raising a suspicious brow to him. "You have one?"

"I do," He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets with a satisfied air, "Shall I get it for you, or are you gonna be all fuckin' prideful, standing there in your boner- raising shorts?"

I widen my eyes at him. "Move on."

The guy leans back as he laughs, holding a hand to his chest. "Sorry, that last part just sort of fuckin' slipped out."

I twist my mouth to my side, unpleased. "Have a nice day."

He strolls over to the trunk of his car. "Alright, alright, look, I'm sorry. Let me just get the jack."

"Are you hard of hearing?" I snap at him. "I said, move the fuck on, asshole!"

"Mom!" Jolyon points a warning, Cheeto coated finger at me from the back seat.

"Yeah, Mom," The man smirks, walking over with the jack, "How about you watch your mouth in front of your son?" He winks, before getting down on the ground to change my tire.

"Look, just put the jack under and I'll do the rest." I lean my arm on the open door.

"Nah, I've got it."

I scoff. "Boy, you sure are a one- eighty from a half hour ago."

He snickers, jacking up the tire. "Is that so?"

"One minute you're biting my head off in a parking lot and the next, you're changing my tire."

"Did you forget that I also brought you your purse awhile back?"

"Yeah and I'm missing forty bucks." I retort dryly. He stops mid-action and tilts his head up at me to see if I'm serious. "Relax, dude, I'm joking."

The man huffs with a grin on his face. "Good one, bitch."

"I got plenty more, asshole."

"Well, I may be an asshole, but I'm not that big of an asshole to pass a lady and her kid on the side of the road."

"I don't know," I peek into see Jolyon still eating his Cheetos, "You seem like that kind of asshole to me."

The guy chuckles, looking up at me with a charming smirk. "Jesus, I change your tire and you bust my balls?"

I shrug, casually. "I call 'em as I see 'em."

"Damn," He replies, while pulling the flat tire off, "Remind me not to help a gal just because she's got a nice pair of legs."

"Aha, so you aren't some noble boy scout here to serve the community."

"Doesn't saving damsels in distress count as serving my fucking community?"

I shake my head, chidingly. "Nope, not when you only save the damsels with nice legs."

The man laughs to himself as he twirls the tire iron. "I don't just save the damsels with nice legs."

"I'll never know that." I claim, which makes him laugh more.

"I guess you fucking won't," Finally, he stands up, wiping some sweat from his brow, "but you should know, that I abso-fucking-lutely would help damsels that didn't have nice legs."

"Hm."

"I'd save a damsel with a nice ass, or a good set of titties, too." He adds with a chuckle.

I roll my eyes in disgust. "How altruistic."

"I know." He says with a deep husk in his tone.

I furrow my eyebrows at him and put my hand out for the tire iron. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

"Hi." Jolyon rasps from his car seat.

The man bends forward until he sees my son and smiles. "Hey, kid," He waves.

I glance him over as he straightens out and gives me his leftover smile. I take the iron to the trunk. "I guess I have to take the flat with me, right?"

"Not unless you want to fuckin' pay a littering fine," The guy replies, "But it's just you and me on this road right now, so I won't fuckin' tell, if you won't."

"...You aren't a cop, are you?" I study his disposition with some skepticism, "You won't take down my plate number and send me a fine in the mail?"

He guffaws at my implications. "Honey, I wouldn't fucking do that, even if I was a fucking cop. Which I'm not, so don't insult me."

I look down at the flat tire, as I shut my trunk door down without loading it. "I think I parked on a nail, or something."

"No shit? Well, then thanks for stealing my spot."

I snicker a little. "Thanks, again," I say, closing the back door and opening my door to get into the car.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

I turn my head in his direction. "Yeah?"

"Can I get your name?"

"I don't know, can you?"

He smolders a toothy grin. " _May_ I get your name? I did just fuckin' change your tire for you."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Dude, I don't owe you my name, because you didn't want to leave my nice legs stranded on the roadside. So, no, you may not have my name, but you can have a nice day."

"Catch ya later, then." He calls back.

I huff, starting my car and driving off. "Doubt it."

"The river now?"

My eyes look at Jolyon through the rearview mirror. "Yes, sir."

He kicks his legs in excitement. "Yay!"

"Yay!" I repeat with a subdued glee, looking back at the man closing his trunk and walking back to get into his car.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm running madly around my house this morning. I feel like a pinball the way I keep going from bedroom to bathroom, from my bedroom to Jolyon's room and then from Jolyon's room to the hallway bathroom and finally back to my bedroom bathroom. Today is the first day of my new job, so I'm trying to hurry both Jolyon and myself out the door. I don't want to be late and make a bad first impression.

"Jolyon, where are you, babe?" I shout from my bedroom as I get dressed.

"In here!" Jolyon calls out across the house.

"Where?" I shimmy my hips to work my way into my pencil skirt.

"Kitchen!" He answers.

I tuck my floral blouse into my skirt, put on my sandal clogs, and give my curls a good shake. I head through my doorway, ready to go. Wait...I go back into my bedroom and grab my purse. Now I'm ready to go. I walk into the kitchen to find Jolyon seated at the table, eating a strawberry poptart.

"It's time to go, punk." I go over to the fridge and grab both our lunches that I made last night. Jolyon pushes himself off the chair and takes his poptart with him towards the front door. "Shoes?"

"Check."

I pour some coffee in a travel mug and grab a package of poptarts. "Matching?"

"No..."

"They need to be matching, Jol." I set down my purse on the bench by the front door, kneeling down to get a matching shoe in the cubby underneath. After that's that, I move my head around in search of my keys. "Keys, keys..."

Jolyon gets up and walks around the corner into the living room. He promptly returns with my keys enclosed in his little fist. He doesn't offer an explanation as to why he knew where they were and I don't ask, since there's a good chance that that's where I tossed them last night when we got home.

"Backpack?"

Jolyon holds the straps on his shoulders and nods. "Check."

I nod and then grab my purse and open the door, only to close it. "Phone." I hurry down towards my bedroom to grab my cell phone off my nightstand.

"Mom!" Jolyon groans. "C'mon!"

"Alright, alright!" I come back with my phone, dropping it in my purse and grabbing up my keys, lunch, coffee, and folder of papers. "Let's go."

The drive to Southcastle is only about a half hour drive and we've made great time, but I'm still antsy. I was up half the night with the jitters, so maybe it's a little left over from that. I first take Jolyon to the daycare/preschool, where he'll hang until I get off work.

"What if I don't like it here?" He asks, holding my hand a little tighter than usual as we walk up to the building.

"What are you talking about?" I wiggle our joined arms. "It's gonna be so much fun. There's lots of other kids and you'll get to play games and learn cool stuff. You'll like it."

"Pinky swear?" He holds up his free pinky.

"Pinky swear," I lock mine with his before opening up the door, "Tell you what? How about I come back around lunch time and check on you?"

"Okay." Jolyon murmurs, nervous.

The super perky daycare assistant greets us and has me sign Jolyon in. She shows him over to a little cubby where he can put his backpack. He's not typically shy, but I can see that he's apprehensive about being left in a strange place. Normally, I'd hang out for a few minutes until he's comfortable, but I need to get to work and make copies of my class syllabus.

I walk over to him and he gives me an uncertain puppy dog look. "I gotta go, kiddo." Jolyon lowers his head and nods. I squat down and touch both his shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna like it here, I promise."

He sniffs upwards. "Okay."

"Okay?" I bite my lip in thought. "Hey, maybe we'll...order pizza tonight and pick some ice cream up on the way home. Sound like a plan?"

"Can I pick mint chip?"

"You bet." I smile, giving him a light peck on the cheek. "I'm right down the street, baby."

"Okay. Bye, Mama." He hugs me, patting my shoulder.

After dropping Jolyon off, I drive down to the high school. I was told I have an assigned parking spot, but Diane didn't tell me where that was exactly, so I just pull into the nearest available spot. This isn't my first time wearing anything with a heel and the clogs I have on are barely an inch off the ground, but trying to haul ass to the main office is a bitch of a task in them.

A little paper sign says to keep the copies within the quarter allowance, which is a hundred per staff member. But, I've got a hundred and thirty students and they each need the two page, front and back syllabus, so I guess I'll be reducing the fucking carbon footprints of myself and a hundred and thirty kids for one quarter. At least after today.

I give passerby colleagues, whom I don't know, light smiles and how-do-you-dos, as the copy machine is in a frenzy. The clock on the wall tells me it's twenty minutes until first bell, which gives me plenty of time to go to the bathroom and get organized in my classroom. I gather up the warm stack of papers and get my ass moving towards the door.

"Aren't you going to the staff meeting?" Diane asks from her desk.

"Huh?" I swallow down my poptart. "I didn't know there was a staff meeting."

"It's more like a little pep talk," She smiles, "it'll take like ten minutes. In there." She points me to a conference room where other staff members have gathered.

"Uh, okay." I anxiously go into the room.

Some other teachers smile my way as I walk in, or give a curious glance. All the chairs around the table are taken, so I side step over to the available space of wall to awkwardly stand by. I look down at my phone for the time, hoping this show comes and goes fast. I hate first day pep talks. We had them at the school I taught at in Austin and I thought they were stupid and pointless. Why not just send out an email?

I put my cell phone back in my purse and it's then that I get the sudden feeling I'm being watched. I mean, I definitely know there are some people looking at me, because I'm a new face, but I also can sense something more transfixed. I lift my head up and peek over to where I feel the staring is coming from.

On the other side of the room, leaning back in a chair at the table, is a gaze and a cocky grin set my way. I furrow my eyebrows in both confusion and resentment. It's that fucking guy that changed my tire two days ago! You've got to be fucking to be kidding me. What is he doing here? He does not work here, no fucking way.

"Good morning," A medium built man strides into the room, "Welcome back. I hope everyone had a good summer."

The man, who turns out to be the principal, begins prattling about some newer school rules and procedures, but I can hardly pay attention. My eyes keep stealing over to that guy, who is still staring at me from where he sits.

"And I'd also like to welcome our new English teacher, Pippa Barnes." The principal, Mr. Coolidge, points me out to everyone. I smile and wave bashfully, trying not to look directly at the guy whose eyes haven't left me since I got here. "So, all that being said, let's have another great school year and an amazing first day back."

Everyone makes their way to the door and I nonchalantly maneuver around people to exit before that jerk catches me. I forget that I've still got a half of poptart on my stack of syllabi; so I toss it in the trash can I pass on my way out of the main office. Diane wishes me luck as I walk by her desk and I thank her with a grateful smile.

First bell rings when I'm a few feet down the hall. The crowd of students begin leisurely filing through the school, here and there, to get to first period. Some talk about their summer, while others compare school schedules and groan about having "that asshole" for two different classes. All of the sudden, an eerie whistle strolls through the air and the kids all start to move quicker. A few kids even look over their shoulders, before hurrying off in odd directions.

"You've got less than a minute 'til the bell rings," He belts out, "So, hustle your asses!"

I turn around and find him walking up to me with an arrogant ease and a smug smirk on his face. "Well, hello there."

"Fancy meeting you here," I retort saucily, as I continue through the hall, "I'm guessing you're the gym teacher?"

"Shit, what gave me away?" He chuckles, trailing me. "Was it maybe my whistle, or baseball cap?"

"No, I heard the gym teacher was an asshole," I answer tersely, "When I saw you in the conference room, I put two and two together."

The man laughs at that. "Nice detective work."

"Well, I'm not just a pretty face." I tread a little faster as I spot my classroom, Room 34. "Why didn't you say that you worked here, if you knew I'd be teaching here, too?"

"Why wouldn't you tell me your name, after I graciously fixed your tire?"

I scoff. "Because you were a stranger on the side of a road."

"Fair enough, "He shrugs, "You look nice."

"Thanks."

"You really had to go for the sexy skirt on the first day, huh?" He eyes my lower half. "Jesus."

I get to the door of my classroom and glance up at him. "Have a nice day and you might not want to pitch a tent, if you're about to start class. Seems like the kind of thing that'd get you fired."

I enter the classroom and close the door, before he can speak back to me. I even lower the old roll up curtain, which makes him laugh on the other side. The bell rings and all the student clamor settles down. I set all my stuff down on my desk, except for the stack of syllabi.

"Good morning and welcome in," I hand the first kid in the first row by the window the stack, "Take one and pass it down." I then go over to the whiteboard and uncap a blue pen. "My name is Ms. Barnes and this is tenth grade English."

 **...**

The morning goes by smoothly. The first day always does. It's just introduction and guiding everyone through the syllabus. I mainly teach sophomores, but fifth, sixth, and seventh period are juniors. After fourth period is lunch, so I take that opportunity to run to the bathroom, before I walk down the block to go check on Jolyon, as promised.

There's a woman standing outside the faculty bathroom, which is just a single bathroom, with her arms crossed and her weight shifted to one side. She's got dark brown hair pulled up in an elegant, messy bun and her irritated pout is painted with a beautiful mauve lip. Her wine-colored dress accentuates her curves and a flash of matching mauve toes can be seen from her green heels.

The woman looks over her shoulder at the students who turn a corner, before angrily banging her fist on the door. "Hurry up, asshole!" She catches sight of me walking up to the bathroom. "Sorry."

"No worries." I grin, standing outside the bathroom as well.

"He's doing it on purpose." She motions her thumb at the door.

"Oh."

She looks me over. "You're that new teacher, right? Pepa?"

"Pippa," I extend my hand, "Pippa Barnes."

"Oh, shit, sorry!" She laughs, shaking my hand. "I was only half- listening through that whole stupid thing. My boyfriend was texting me."

"It's alright," I chuckle back, "I wasn't really paying much attention, either."

"Dios mío, it's like what the hell are you trying to get us all wet for? It's work, regardless if you like it, or not."

"Yeah," I smile, "It's almost patronizing."

She cackles, nodding her head. "Right. I'm Lourdes Alvarado. I teach Spanish and French."

"Nice to meet you."

"I use to teach ASL, but it got cut last year, so now it's ASL club every Thursdays at lunch," She rolls her eyes, "Fucking budget cuts. That class was popular."

"I bet," I say oddly. I look at the bathroom door and then at my phone's clock. "Uh, is whoever's in there gonna be done soon?"

Lourdes groans, banging the door again. "I doubt he's even using the bathroom," She claims, before yelling at the door, "He's just a huge dick!"

I don't hear any flushing, or water running from within. I can't actually hear anything at all in there. "Are you sure someone's in there?"

"Yeah," She scoffs, "He cut me off to get in. The asshole's just trying to piss me off."

The door finally opens and a tall man exits. Wanna guess who? He grins ear to ear at Lourdes, who's not amused. "I heard huge dick and figured I best go where I'm needed."

"Where? You gonna show people a side by side comparison of a huge dick and your micro pecker? I don't think they make magnifying glasses that powerful."

The man chuckles and then licks his lips. "What were you gagging on, then?"

Lourdes huffs, disgusted. "The thought of you. Move out of the way." She pushes him, so she can get through.

When the door closes, my eyes blink back to the gym teacher, who's smiling at me. "How's your day been, so far?"

"Fine." I say, pretending to read a lemon yellow flyer that's taped on the wall.

"What are you doing for lunch?"

"I'm walking down to the preschool to check on my son."

"Happy Hands?" He inquires.

"That would be the one." I reply and Lourdes opens the door to the bathroom after that, so I enter the bathroom. After washing and drying my hands, I exit and I'm sad to report that he's still hanging out by the bathroom. I roll my eyes and stalk down the hall towards the front of the school.

"You know, you're kind of fucking rude." He snickers lowly, which makes me realize he's following me.

"Yeah? How so?"

"I know your name, but you have not once fuckin' asked what mine is."

I sigh, shifting myself around. "Fine," I put my hand out, "Hi, my name is Pippa. What's your name?"

The gym teacher's smirk grows, undeterred by my sarcasm, and he takes my hand in his. "I'm Negan."

I pull my hand away and give a curt nod. "Nice to meet you, Negan. Now, I have someplace to be, so leave me the fuck alone." I continue on my journey and try not to seem annoyed by the fact that he's still following me.

"Was it Lourdes who told you I was an asshole?" He asks after a minute.

"No, I only just met her," I respond.

"Well, who was the gal that told you that?"

I huff, glancing over at him. "You really think I'd tell you that? And how do you know it was woman who told me?"

Negan snickers under his breath. "I got a feelin'."

We get to the front. "Well, they also said that you distracted some of the students, because you were good looking," I turn my head to find him grinning, "But I don't see it."

Negan breathes in a throated chuckle. "Damn, you know something? I fuckin' like you."

"Then I've failed." I laugh, exiting the building.

It takes me about five minutes to walk to Happy Hands. I eat some of my lunch on the way there, while casually looking over my shoulder to make sure that weirdo is no longer trailing me. An old Camaro is parked across the street and a pair of moans can be heard coming from it. Whoever's inside must be in the backseat, because when I first heard the noise, I instinctively glanced over that way and couldn't see anyone in the front. It could be some teenagers, but technically they're parked off school property, so it's out of my jurisdiction.

I get into the preschool and request to see Jolyon, signing my name to the sheet. The receptionist goes into the main room and a few seconds later, Jolyon comes running out with her.

"Mommy!"

"Hey, you!" I hug him and bring him up in my arms. "How's it going in there?"

"We got to play duck, duck, goose!" He excitedly tells me.

"Really? I'm so jealous!" I wipe some mustard off his mouth with my thumb. "So, you think you're gonna like it here?"

"Yeah!"

I smile, kissing his cheek. "I'm glad."

The rest of the day is so much easier after lunch. There's only three classes left in the day, so time just flies by. I manage to avoid that Negan jerk for the rest of the day, too.

I still had some stuff to do, before I leave to go home, so I got Jolyon and brought him back here with me. He's sitting in one the desks, looking over a picture book, as I move some stuff around the classroom.

"Almost ready to go?" I ask after half an hour.

"I have to go potty." He lifts up his empty water bottle as evidence.

"Okay, let's go." I take his hand and we walk to the bathroom. Ever since he got potty trained, he insists on doing it all himself, so I just stand outside the bathroom with the door cracked open with my foot. I hear the toilet wrathfully flush, as all school bathrooms do for some reason, a few minutes later. "Done?"

"Yeah." His little voice echoes off the tiles.

"Okay," I walk in to help him reach the sink.

As we head back to my room, we pass the gym, where the lights are turning off section by section. "Hey, wanna race back to my classroom?"

"Yeah!"

"On your mark, get set, go!"

Jolyon runs the fifteen feet to my class, while I just walk at a quicker pace, letting him beat me. I just wanted us to pass the gym a little faster than we were going.

"I win, I win!"

I look from the gym doors to Jolyon, smiling. "Ah, you did. You beat me."

Twenty minutes later, I collect my purse, Jolyon puts his backpack on, and we leave the school. It's out in the parking lot that I see Negan. He's got the door of his car open, but he's standing with his arm leaning on the hood as he holds a phone to his ear.

"I'm sorry, alright? Christ, I'm on my fucking way now!" He yells into the phone.

I open the back seat of the car and Jolyon climbs in, getting himself in his car seat. "Are we having pizza for dinner?"

"Uh, yeah!" I smile as I buckle him in. "Do I look like the kind of punk to go back on my word?"

Jolyon giggles into a yawn. "No."

I close the door and move around to the driver's side.

"No, that is not fucking why!" Negan fires back at the person on the phone. I try not to glance over, or eavesdrop. "I'm not fucking having this goddamn fucking argument with you again! I'm hanging up now...yeah, I fucking am, you want me to fucking leave, or not?"

Damn. I get into my car and notice that Jolyon's eyes are fighting to stay open. I start the car and turn on the audio book.

"No, fuck you!" From the rearview, I see Negan toss his phone into the car, before getting into it himself. He speeds out of the parking lot, almost grazing another teacher's car, and takes off down the road.

 **...**

The first week of school breezes by effortlessly. The students are decently behaved and more teachers are personally introducing themselves to me, which is nice. I've heard some interesting things about the gym teacher that honestly doesn't surprise me. Apparently, he's an incorrigible prick, according to Lourdes, who rumor has it plowed at least three teachers. She didn't mention whom he's fooled around with, but that doesn't really matter to me.

On Sunday, Jolyon and I go to the store to pick up some groceries. It's nice being three towns away from where I work, because I don't have to worry about running to anyone I work with. I know that sounds fucking rude, but I don't really want to hang out with my co-workers, nor do I want to make bland small talk.

"Mommy, those ones!" Jolyon points to a package of Oreos.

"Jol, you don't even like those, you just want the middle." I protest, grabbing a pack of Chips Ahoy. "We're getting these and some Fig Newtons."

"Aww!" He whines in his seat in the shopping cart.

"You like those, so don't pitch a fit." I drop a little single pack of Oreos in the cart.

"Pippa?" Someone questions behind me. "Pippa Barnes?" I turn around and see a woman with her cart at the start of the aisle. Her face brightens up as soon as she recognizes me. "Oh my god, it is you!"

It's only when she's a little closer that I also recognize her. "Oh, wow," I say with some diluted zeal, "Sherry McKee."

"Yeah, it's me!" She stops her cart a foot away and continues to come over, pulling me into a hug. "I can't believe my eyes, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"I know, huh?" I smile cordially at her, "I just moved back here about a month ago."

"No kidding? That's great." Sherry looks over her shoulder. "Hey, D! Dwight!"

"Yeah?" He answers, though he's not visible.

"Come here!" She says back. Dwight soon appears with a six-pack of beer and the moment he realizes why she called him over, I can see his eyes purposely not focus on me. "Do you remember Pippa Barnes? I use to cheer with her in high school."

He puts the beer in the cart and then looks between us. "Uh, yeah. Hey."

"Hi." I reply, a little confused.

"Well, she's just moved back to Camden." Sherry motions to me, before glancing back at me with a smile.

"Yeah, I know."

She looks at him curiously and then briefly at me. "You do?"

"Um, yeah, did I forget to tell you? We ran into each other at Lorelei's."

Sherry scoffs, humored. "He has such a shitty memory. I swear I have to write his name in his underwear, so he won't forget it."

I smile, clearing my throat. "So, Dwight mentioned you two are married?"

"Yeah, we are!" Sherry holds up her ring hand and shows me her humble diamond. "We're about to celebrate thirteen years in September."

"Oh, that's great." I scratch the side of my arm.

"Who's this?" She peeks her head behind me.

"Oh, this is my son, Jolyon," I turn back towards him, "who is apparently hungry." Jolyon sits comfortably, eating the single pack of Oreos. "Say hi to Mommy's friends, Jolyon."

"Hi." He waves while chewing a cookie.

"Hi." Sherry and Dwight say almost in unison. "How old are you?" Sherry asks with a sunny voice.

"Three." Jolyon holds up two fingers, but quickly puts up a third upon inspection.

"Wow, three?" Sherry gushes, "That's an exciting age." Dwight and I share a brief glance, before Sherry asks me another question. "So, is your husband here with you?"

My eyes blink back to her. "No, I'm not married and I don't have a boyfriend, either."

"Oh," She nods, "Well, listen, it was good seeing you again."

"Same." I push another smile.

"Hey, you'll have to come over for dinner one night, so we can catch up. Right, hon?"

"Uh, yeah." Dwight nods, looking into their cart.

"Sure," I politely agree, "That sounds nice."

"Do you have a cell phone number?"

I reach into my purse and pull out a pharmacy receipt, scribbling my number on it with a pen. "Here ya go."

"Great, I'll give you a call." She gives me an assuring nod. "See you later."

"Bye." I wave to both of them.

Dwight turns to go with his wife, but I see him nonchalantly glance back at me before they turn the aisle. I look back to my son and he smiles with black and white remnants of cookie in his teeth. After getting the rest of what we came here for, I stroll down the beer and spirits aisle, because I need to be more spirited.

Every check stand has at least three people in line, because for some borderline bizarre reason; everyone in this town does their grocery shopping on Sunday mornings, if they aren't in church. I casually flip through a magazine I'm not going to buy, as we wait in line.

"Oh, I forgot to get that, um, thing," I hear Sherry whisper in the next lane over, "I'll be right back."

I turn my head and see D looking at me, so I offer a brief grin. I then realize my bottle of gin and lemon tonic water is in plain view. I know I probably shouldn't feel ashamed, since I'm an adult, but I hang Jolyon's zip up hoodie on the side of the cart to block the view.

"Uh, Pippa?"

I look back to Dwight. "Hm?"

He turns his head to make sure Sherry's not behind him, I assume. "She probably won't call you," His tone sounds almost apologetic, "I just thought you should know."

"...Okay," I push my cart up some, "thanks for letting me know, I guess."

Sherry returns and tries to conceal what is obviously a box of condoms. Neither of them makes eye contact with one another and it's an awkward sight to behold. Why would a married couple be abashed to buy condoms? Sherry sees me and shyly smiles, waving. I wave back and can see that Dwight's not going to glance this way again. Sherry takes his arm and softly leans her head on his shoulder while they wait in line. He lightly kisses the top of her head.

I put Jolyon to bed around eight- thirty later that night. I go over to my iPod dock and set the volume low, as I pour myself some gin. I toss some cucumber slices leftover from the dinner salad in the glass, just so I can feel somewhat better about drinking straight up. I pick up the living room where Jolyon watched The Lion King, while I tried to focus on reading a few chapters of The Scarlet Letter and To Kill a Mockingbird for class prep. Once the living room's done, I go into the kitchen to wash the dishes I let soak.

Most of the songs on my iPod are melancholy, but a more lighter song comes on and it makes me break down, crying. I continue to do the dishes, though, tilting back my gin with a sudsy hand.


	4. Chapter 4

I lay on my car horn. "C'mon, move it, asshole!"

"Mommy, you said a swear." Jolyon points out from the back seat.

"No one likes a tattletale, Jolyon." I retort, merging over to the left side lane. I'm running a little late this morning. I woke up fifteen minutes after my alarm went off, because I fell asleep on the couch last night after doing the dishes.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's my lunch box?"

I glance around the car through the rearview. "Shit, I'm sorry, baby. I forgot it." I know the speed limit's forty, but I ease into fifty for time's sake. Let's just hope there isn't a fucking cop around. "Is my lunch back there?"

"Yes." Jolyon points to the tote bag that I use to carry my lunch and other crap I need for work.

"You can have mine, how about that?"

"Okay."

To be fair, I did take his lunch out of the fridge and set it down by his backpack, so it's both our faults for not putting it in there and for not checking. We get to Happy Hands with five minutes until first bell at the high school. I make a quick drop off and goodbye, before hauling ass back to where I work. I park in the designated parking space I discovered the fourth day of being here.

I uncouthly get out of my car in a hurry, clicking the lock button twice too many times and causing it to annoyingly beep. Fuck. I turn right around and go back for my purse. The bell rings and so I pick up the pace. Two teenage boys make out in the parking lot, ignoring the bell.

"Get to class, please!" I shout as I hurry past them. I hear one call me a bitch under his breath.

"Hey!" Coach Negan comes out of nowhere. I furrow my brows and open my mouth to tell him to fuck off. "Halsey, congratulations. You just got thirty fucking more bleacher runs for profanity." I turn my head swiftly and see one of the students lower his head, hustling to class. "You should get to movin', before you earn twenty more for being late."

"Sorry, Coach." The boy says, running off to class.

I eye Negan up and he smiles at me. "Good morning."

"Morning," I curtly greet back, walking through the front door, "You didn't have to do that."

"Do what?" He asks, striding up next to me.

"Yell at that kid for calling me a bitch," I clarify, "I've been a teacher for nine years, so I don't let shit get to me."

Negan chuckles. "Ah, it was nothin'. I like being an asshole whenever I can."

"So, you see every social interaction as an opportunity, then?" I raise my brow.

His near perfect teeth herald his laughter and I can't fight the smirk forming on my face.

 **...**

The lunch bell rings around eleven- twenty. I glance up at the clock on the back wall of the classroom, while my students start to pack up their things.

"Alright, so for homework I want you to read up to chapter eight," I put down my beat up copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, "Remember, quizzes are for the class that doesn't read the book, so spare yourselves the misery!"

A few students chuckle as they exit. One girl approaches me just before leaving. "Ms. Barnes, I wanted to ask if we could get the prompt for the essay early?"

"Oh," I'm surprised, because no student has ever asked for an early anything, "Um, I guess I could email it to you, if you shoot me an email to remind me."

"Okay," She smiles, adjusting her magenta framed glasses, "Thanks, Ms. Barnes. Most teachers would have said no."

"Oh, well, I don't mind. Just don't turn it in early, because it'll get lost."

"Alright, see ya tomorrow!"

"See ya tomorrow, Ravinder."

Ravinder leaves the classroom. I see her casually look down the hall to her right and then immediately lower her head, walking to the left. I sit down at my desk to organize some papers that were turned in at the beginning and to prepare for after lunch.

"Knock, knock," Negan suddenly appears, knocking the back of his hand on my open door and coming in.

"Hi." I say, paperclipping some homework together and tucking it into a folder.

"Are you fucking doing work on your lunch break?" He scoffs, amused. "Who does that?"

"The sort of person who gave her lunch to her three year old, because she was running late and forgot to make sure he stuck it in his backpack."

"Shit, that sucks," Negan moseys on over to my whiteboard and I hear him uncap a pen, "so you're fasting, huh?"

"For now. Don't you dare fucking erase anything." I roll back my chair and see him doodling genitalia on the board. "Are you twelve?"

"No, but let me fuckin' school you on something, " He puts the cap on the pen and sets it down with a toothy grin, "No matter the age, almost every guy thinks drawing dicks is fucking funny, because it fucking is."

I roll my eyes, before glancing over at the sketch. "Only men would."

"Well, women would, too, if it were easy to draw pussies."

"It is easy to draw pussy." I claim, crossing my arms.

He looks at me and a wickedly dimpled grin spreads. "Fucking liar."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it always ends up looking like a goddamn clam."

" Pearl and all?"

"You bet your ass, fuckin' pearl and all."

I sigh, standing up and taking the pen. "It's not hard to draw a vagina, dipshit."

He laughs a little. "Are you really gonna fucking do it?"

I draw a "V" and decorated it with little curls. "See?"

He squints at the drawing. "I was talking spread fuckin' eagle."

I take the eraser and shake my head at him, as I wipe off the dumb drawings. "What did you come in here for?"

Negan puts his hands in his pockets and breathes. "I ordered a pizza and I wanted to know if you would like a slice, or two."

"No thanks." I scoot my chair back to my desk.

"Oh, c'mon, baby," He nudges my chair with his shoe, "You gave your lunch away to your boy and school ain't over for another three hours."

"I said no thanks," I stick some papers down into my drawer.

"It's combination."

"I don't like toppings on my pizza, so a pizza with a shit ton of toppings is definitely a deal breaker."

"You eat pizza with just cheese?" He scoffs, as if it's strange.

"Yeah."

"What kind of fucking prude eats a plain cheese pizza?"

"This prude."

"...So, no then?"

I look up at him. "No."

Negan rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. "Suit yourself, baby."

"Don't call me baby."

 **...**

"Welcome to Lorelei's, can I getcha some coffee and a menu?"

"Just water, thanks." The old woman says.

"Comin' up."

I decided to stay on as an on-call waitress at Lorelei's. I figured it'd be mostly rare weekend shifts, but Leda called me on our way home and asked if I could work four hours this evening, until the night waitress gets here to take over. So I dropped Jolyon off with my parents, both parties were happy, and threw on the old polyester dress.

It hasn't been too busy tonight. I've got an hour left in my shift and there's only been five customers in my section. I come back with a glass and a pitcher of water for the old biddy.

"Ready to order?" I ask, glancing up at the familiar Camaro that's roared into the lot through the window.

"Yes, what is the pie of the day?"

"Lemon meringue."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," She says with a brittle granny voice, "I'll have a slice of that and...what's the soup of the day?"

I blink my focus off of the car that hasn't been vacated yet. "Um, split pea with bacon."

"I'll have that as well, sweetheart."

"Alright, I'll get that started for you." I go over to clip the order on the wheel.

Finally! I see the car door open. It might sound nosy, but I'm itching to see who had been having sex across the street from the school the other day. I ruled out the possibility of it being kids, since I don't ever see that car in the parking lot any other time of the day. It's weird, you know? Like, why the fuck are you parking right outside a school to have sex? At eleven- thirty in the morning, no less.

A man who looks to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties exits the driver's side. It's when he comes around to the other side that I see a sleazy looking mustache on his face. The kind of mustache that immediately makes you think he's a motel pimp, a porn producer, or 1970's drug dealer. Maybe all of the above.

It's his passenger that really blows me away; because I know her. It's fucking Lourdes. The Spanish/French/ASL club teacher. She looks so stunning, goddamn. I should pick my jaw off the floor. The man snakes a hand around her hourglass hips and they walk this way. Please don't sit in my section.

I turn my back and go over to another customer, asking them if they'd like me to clear their table. I hear the bell to the door open as I stroll over to the back kitchen with some finished plates, keeping my head down. I peek from the back to see where they've sat.

"Fucking come on!" I curse through my teeth.

"What?" One cook asks.

"Nothing." I push open the swinging door and put on a genial smile. "Welcome in, can I getcha some coffee and a couple menus?"

Lourdes looks up instantly and is slightly taken back at the sight of me. "Pepa?"

"It's Pippa," I use my pen to point to my nametag, "And hello, Lourdes."

"Crap, sorry," She rolls her eyes at herself, "I have a cousin named Pepa, so I just instantly think of that name. You work here?"

"Every so often." I spy her companion giving me a confused look over as he puts his arm around her shoulder.

"Where are my manners?" Lourdes touches his leg. "Baby, this is Pippa from work. Pippa, this is Simon."

"Hello." I give him a small, unsure smile.

"Hello," He mirrors back, but with a cool edge, "So, you work here to make ends meet, or something?"

"Cállate, don't be rude!" Lourdes tells him.

"It's an honest question," He shrugs, before looking back at me, "We all know how shitty they pay you teachers, am I right, Pip?"

I chuckle for Lourdes' sake, since she appears a little embarrassed. "Yeah, but no. I know the owner, so I just try to help out when I can."

"Huh. Do you donate the tips to charity, since you're just helping out?" He asks.

"I'd like some coffee, please," Lourdes interjects, "and a menu, please."

"Alright, I'll be back." I walk off and overhear Lourdes quietly snapping at her boyfriend.

I return with two coffee cups and the pot of coffee. Simon flashes a zealous grin, as he lifts his cup for me to fill. I resist the urge to pour the hot contents on his lap, again for my co-worker's sake. Lourdes is pretty nice to me, so I don't want to affect her night because her porn producing, drug dealing, motel pimp of a boyfriend is an ass.

They order and while their waiting; my old lady pays and leaves, making them the only two in my section right now. She leaves a dollar tip and I hear Lourdes shush Simon as I pocket it, warning him in Spanish to knock it off, or else.

"Or else what?" Simon chuckles with a mischievous lowness to his tone, traipsing his hand under her dress.

"Stop!" She tries not to laugh, which only encourages him. "Stop, or else..." She whispers too low for me to catch from the counter. Simon chuckles at what I assume is dirty talk, because he plants his mustache on her neck, making her giggle.

Just to be clear, I'm not staring at them like some pervert. I'm just contemplating on whether or not I should offer them some more coffee, or some contraceptives. Other waitresses and customers look a little irritated and uncomfortable by the groping and repressed moaning in booth twelve. They abruptly halt what is essentially intercourse without any type of penetration, I think, when I finally have to bring over their meals.

I wipe down the counter, praying the time will go by faster, so I can go home. The bell rings as another person enters the diner. They sit down on a stool up at the counter in what is basically my section.

"Welcome in, can I getcha some coffee and a menu?" I look up and find Dwight gazing at me with his hands locked together on the counter.

"Hey."

"Hey," I acridly repeat, holding up my pad and pen, "Know what you want?"

"I'm placing an order to go," He reaches into his pants pocket and brings forth a yellow sticky note, "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Dwight reads his order from off the note.

"Alright, it'll be about fifteen minutes."

"Okay, that's cool." He nods, rubbing his hands together causally.

"Would you like some coffee while you wait? It's on the house."

"Uh, no thanks."

I nod, spotting Simon waving me down. "Alright." I walk over to their booth that is sans Lourdes, who must have gone to the bathroom. "Can I get you some more coffee?"

"Nope, we're ready to go," He grins, "so you can bring the check now, honey."

I bite my tongue and tip my mouth into something that resembles a smile. "Right away." I go and get the check, walking off before he can get his wallet out.

"I thought you were only working here until your new job started?" Dwight asks randomly from the stool.

I tidy up some things behind the counter. "I was, but I decided to stay on as an on-call."

"Why?"

I shrug my shoulder. "I guess I wanted to help out Leda. Her and my mom are good friends and I get paid under the table."

Dwight nods. "Um, could I get some water?"

"Sure."

"Bye Pippa," Lourdes gives me a friendly wave, "I'll see you tomorrow at work!"

"Yeah, see ya." I put a hand up, while also handing Dwight a glass of water.

Simon pulls his hand out of his jacket pocket and extends it to me. "It was a pleasure meetin' ya."

Reluctantly, I reach my hand over the counter and shake his hand. "Likewise."

He slides his hand away smoothly and the other hand touches the back of mine, encouraging it to close around what I'm now realizing is something he's slipped me. "Have a good one." He winks, before heading to the door with Lourdes.

I shove my hand into my apron pocket and leave whatever he just gave me, because Dwight's giving me a look that informs me my face is telling of something strange. I grin oddly at him.

He glances away to his glass of water. "Got a minute?"

"You're my last customer, so you have my undivided attention." I reply with a dry sarcasm.

D looks up at me. "I'm sorry about what happened Sunday."

I blow it off with a nonchalant flip of my hand. "It was no big deal."

"It was wrong of her to make plans that she's not gonna call you on."

I give a cool chuckle. "It's not a big deal, Dwight. People do that all the time. Say their gonna give you a call and then they never do; it's just some polite in the moment nicety bullshit." Our eyes meet and I can see he looks unsure. "I didn't really think she was going to call."

He takes a sip of water. "She's not...she's not usually like that."

"Huh, Mom always said I was special."

D sighs, frustrated. "It's not that she doesn't like you, or whatever."

"I don't care if she does, or not." I restock the napkin dispenser and sugar caddy.

"She does like you, but she's not gonna invite you to dinner."

I glance over at him soberly. "I'll stop holding my breath."

The order bell rings. "We got a to-go order ready!"

I shift around and grab the plastic bag that holds two styrofoam containers. "Here you go. Have a nice night."

Dwight takes the bag from me, seemingly unsatisfied by our conversation, but that's not my concern. He stands up from the stool and turns to leave. "She was right; I do have a shitty memory."

"Hm."

"But she knew I didn't forget you."

I don't look back. I just keep my back to him, as I put away the extra napkins and sugar packs. After I hear the bell of the door jingle, I grab up my purse and clock out for the night.

Once I'm out in the parking lot, I reach back into my apron pocket and produce the little plastic nickel bag with an already rolled joint inside. I scoff; does he think this makes up for not leaving a tip?

 **...**

Every time the bell rings, I want to collapse due to the low-grade headache that's camping out for the day. I got a little tipsy last night after Jolyon went to bed. Well, maybe head over heels drunk, but I took some charcoal pills before I went to bed, so I'm not as hungover as I could be.

The fourth period students file out for lunch and I close the door once the last one is out, so I can put my head down on my desk for a little bit. I don't know why Dwight had to tell me what I already knew, twice. I fucking knew she wasn't going to ever call, alright? Truth be told, I wasn't looking forward to an invitation, either.

Sherry and I got along when we were younger, but it's not like we were close in school. We cheered together and maybe talked or hung out at some random bonfires by the river, but that doesn't mean we were friends. Plus, I dated her husband in school, so I can't imagine we'd have a lot to talk about.

My phone rings in my purse about five minutes later and I answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, are you at lunch?" It's my sister, Audrey.

"Yes," I fish out my tote bag for my turkey sandwich, "What's up?"

"You know how you were telling me that you were thinking about getting a cat?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Well...how would you like to be the proud owner of a one year old Bengal?" She asks with some softness in her voice, like she's talking to a baby.

"A Bengal? Like a fucking tiger?" I scoff.

"It's a breed of cat, dummy." Audrey's tone sharpens. I hear a small mewl in the background.

"Is that the cat?" A knock on the door has me glancing that way to discover Negan opening the door.

"Yes and he needs a home. What do you say?"

I hold up my hand at Negan to stop him from talking. "I say, how much is it gonna cost?"

"Nothing," Audrey claims, "Someone left him in a carrier on the front steps of my office. He's already fixed and I gave him his shots. He's in good health."

I sigh, putting a hand on my forehead. "I don't know, Audrey, why can't you take it home?"

"Because my house already has two cats, a dog, some chickens, three kids, and a husband. Get real, I am maxed out."

"Oh, I should get some chickens..." I study Negan as he wanders my classroom, looking at things on the walls and picking up random books, "You think Dad would build me a coop?"

"Pippa! Yes, or no on the cat?"

I bite my lip. "Have you asked Mom and Dad?"

"Yes and they said no," She answers, "You said you might have a mouse problem, so here's a free solution."

"Um, alright, fine."

"Yay!" She cheers and the cat meows again. "Oh, see? He's happy now!"

I roll my eyes. "When can I pick it up?"

"I'll bring it to you this weekend, since we're coming down."

"Why are you coming down?"

"...Because it's Lea's birthday, world's best aunt."

"Oh, shit!" I groan, shaking my head at myself. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Okay, well, I gotta go. So, I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, love you."

"Love you, too. Bye." I hang up the phone and drop it in my purse.

Negan smiles. "I take it you just came into ownership of something."

I huff. "Yeah, I'm now the proud owner of a one year old Bengal to help with my mouse problem."

"Shit, like a fucking tiger? How fucking big is the mouse?"

I snicker through my nose. "It's a cat. My sister's a vet and someone left it outside of her office."

Negan nods. "Well, good fuckin' luck with that. Hope you don't like your furniture all that much."

"Is that a warning stemming from experience?"

He scoffs. "Hell no, cats are assholes."

"Maybe you should consider getting one, since you'll have that in common." I retort. "What do you want?"

Negan leans against my desk. "What?"

"You came knocking, dumb ass. What for?"

"Jesus, Ms. Barnes," He laughs, "Why does every conversation with you got me holding my nuts?"

I untwist the cap off a bottle of aspirin. "Do you want something, or not?"

"I ordered pizza and I was wondering if you wanted some," He flips through the pages of the book that's on my desk, "Half of it's just cheese."

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. "Didn't you just order pizza yesterday?"

"Yep."

"Is that what you eat everyday for lunch?"

Negan looks at me, setting the book down. "Nope."

"No." I finally answer, bringing my tote up on the desk. "I brought my lunch."

"So toss it," He replies right away, "Come back to my office and eat with me."

"Your office?" I scoff, incredulously, "The one right outside the boy's locker room?"

"That would be the one."

"Mm, I'm gonna have to pass."

"I'm just trying to be nice here, honey," Negan sits up, sticking his hands down in his pockets, "No funny business."

"Why do you want to be nice to me?" I look up at him with a curious, albeit skeptical face.

"'Cause I like you."

"Bullshit, you don't know me." I huff; opening my little bag of chips.

"Well, maybe I'm fuckin' trying to get to know you," He chuckles slightly, "But you're not making it easy."

"Well, that's because I'm not easy," I make clear, "just so you know."

Negan makes a throaty chuckling noise. "Duly fucking noted."

"Alright then," I stick a chip in my mouth, "Enjoy your pizza."

"You could bring your bag lunch with you to my office, if you'd like." He smiles and I give a look of disbelief. "C'mon, Pippa. Let's be friends."

"Would that be okay with your wife?" I arch my brow. Negan's smile diminishes a little and his brows almost furrow. "You think I didn't notice your wedding ring?"

Negan scoffs, sticking his tongue in his cheek. "Don't fucking flatter yourself, honey. I'm just being friendly."

"Yeah," I huff, "I've read all about your friendliness on the bathroom stall."

"Fuck you."

"Not likely, friend." I retort, taking a bite of my sandwich.

Negan scoffs again and then goes towards the door. "Oh, and by the fuckin' way; I'd sober the fuck up before the kids rat you out to admin."

"Thanks for the advice." I say in a deep mocking voice. He practically slams the door and I hear him call me a bitch.

About fifteen minutes later, another knock at the door comes, before Lourdes enters. "Hey..."

"Hi." I softly reply.

"Busy?"

"No, I'm just finishing an email to a student." I click send. "What's up?"

"I..." She sighs heavily, "I wanted to apologize for last night."

"Oh, well, no worries."

"No, Simon was a dick and I am sorry about what he said to you." Lourdes insists.

"Well, I appreciate that."

She sighs again, sitting lightly on one of the desks. "He can be an ass sometimes, but he's really a nice guy once you get to know him."

"Okay." I fucking doubt it, but whatever.

She cackles. "My mother always says my compass is all turned around, because I always find the ones that are jerks."

I smile. "How long have you been seeing him?"

"Um, for about seven months," She answers, "I met him back in January...in a bar."

I reach down into my purse and pull out the joint. "Uh, he...he gave me this last night," I show it to her, "When he shook my hand."

Lourdes gasps in a whispering volume and snatches it from my hand. "I...oh my god, I am so mortified."

A chuckle filters out of me. "It's alright, I just...I don't feel comfortable taking something if I don't know what's in it."

"No, I completely understand. It's just weed, I swear," Lourdes claims, "But I-"

"It's okay, I'm not mad, or gonna say anything," I assure her, "It's none of my business."

She gives an apprehensive look over and nods. "I gotta go," She goes for the door, "I gotta make a call." Lourdes then stops and turns her head in bewilderment. She lightly sniffs the air. "Was Negan in here?"

"Um...yeah, he was a little while ago. He asked me if I wanted to split a pizza with him."

"Ay, por favor!" Lourdes rolls her eyes. "Do not fall for that." She then closes the door behind her.

I lift my head and sniff, taking in a very faint scent of cologne.

 **...**

Jolyon's ecstatic about the cat news. I figured I'd tell him now, since he was a little cranky about having to come back to work me. I fibbed a little and told him if he was good, we'd get a cat. Hey, I'm not above bribing my son, if need be. He keeps asking me questions about it, which is cute, but I'm hardly getting work done.

"Can I name it?" He asks, sitting on my lap while I'm entering some grades.

"Absolutely," I respond, "You can name him anything you want."

"Can I name him chicken nugget?" He inquires, perfectly serious.

"Sure can."

"Can I name him Simba?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good name."

He moves around until he's completely facing me. "Can I name him Pippa?"

"You may not."

Jolyon softly cups the sides of my face, so that I'll look at him. "Why not?"

"Because there's only room for one Pippa in our house and I was here first and I pay the bills."

"But I like that name."

"Wanna to go to the vending machine?"

"Can I get fishy crackers?"

"If they're in the machine."

He hops backwards off my lap. "Okay."

The two of us wander down the hall to the faculty break room where two vending machines are. We pass the glass doors where you can see the football field. There you can see the players running drills.

"Hey, they have 'em!" Jolyon calls from inside the break room. I go in and stick some quarters in the machine. "I wanna press the button!"

"Alright." I lift him up. "A-4."

Jolyon presses the buttons and then I let him down. He starts to stick his hand near the door, but hesitates. "You do it."

I reach down and retrieve the bag of fish crackers. "It's not gonna bite, Jol."

One of the glass doors opens, letting a breeze sweep at our ankles. "Fucking hell." Negan grumbles, before entering the break room. He's surprised that we're there, but he doesn't pick up his humor upon seeing me. Probably after our little tête-à-tête earlier.

"Come on, Jolyon." I encourage Jolyon towards the door.

"Mommy, I'm thirsty."

I groan internally, wanting to exit the break room. "Okay." I rifle through my purse for more change, ignoring the coach sitting down at a table. "Um..."I shake my purse, "Let's go find a water fountain."

"Okay."

"Here." Negan reaches into his back pocket.

"No, that's okay." I put my hand up.

He extends a dollar to me anyway. "Just take it."

I look at the dollar and then him. "Fine." I take the dollar and feed it to the machine that has drinks.

"I wanna do it!" Jolyon says with a half- full mouth.

I pick him up again. "D-1."

Jolyon wiggles to be let down after the bottle of water drops down. "You can do this part." He points to the swing door.

I chuckle. "Alright," I fish out the water, "Good team work."

Jolyon smiles and puts his hand up. "Hi- five!" I snicker and hi-five him. "Nice one."

Negan chuckles under his breath and I look over my shoulder at him. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem." He says as his humored smile depletes.

"I'll pay you back tomorrow."

He huffs. "It's a fucking dollar."

"You said a swear word." Jolyon whispers, shyly at my side.

Negan raises his brows and grins at Jolyon, which makes me think he's gonna fucking say something worse. "I did, didn't I? Sorry, kid."

"That's okay." Jolyon replies, looking up at me. "Mommy says swears a lot."

Negan chuckles, glancing back at me. "So, I've heard."

I scoff, slightly humored. "Shouldn't you be out making sure the players aren't slacking off?"

"They think I'm just behind the bleachers, taking a call." He reports.

"Hm, well...thanks again." Jolyon and I exit.

"Hey!" Negan calls out from the doorway.

I look over my shoulder. "What?"

"Are you going to back-to-school night?"

"Uh...when's that?"

"Thursday night," Negan informs me, "Five to eight."

"I don't know," I answer, wondering why he's asking, "I didn't know about it, so it'll depend if I can get someone to watch Jolyon."

"Alright," He nods, before looking back at the two glass doors, "Well, I should get back to it."

"Yeah."

 **...**

Tonight, I picked up some Chinese food on the way home, because I'm too tired to cook over a hot stove in this heat. Jolyon only likes the noodles and potstickers, so we don't order much. We eat it by the T.V. because my favorite show's on tonight. My phone rings in the kitchen where I left my purse, so I take it as an opportunity to spring for more moo shu pork.

I pick up the phone, while setting my plate down on the table. "Hello?"

"..."

"Hello?" I say again, scooping some more food onto my plate. There's some muffled snickering in the background. I hang up the phone, concluding it to be a prank call. I go to leave the kitchen and my phone rings again. I go over and see that it's an unknown number. "Hello?"

"..." There's more snickering and I can make out at least two different voices.

"Fuck off." I irritably hang up the phone again. The blocked number calls back almost immediately. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Um..." A young voice tries to speak, but has to clear his throat to stop laughing, "Um, so...how are you liking the lube?" There's a burst of hyena laughter in the back.

"Excuse me?"

More cackling. "I said how you liking that intense touch lube? Do you use it on yourself?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

"For twelve bucks, it better be worth it!"

"How did you get this number?" I ask, furiously.

"Found it on a receipt in the parking lot, you cheap slut!" There's another roar of laughter and then a click.

I scoff, utterly livid. Fucking teenagers. I walk back into the living room and sit down. As I cool down, I recall what that little asshole said. He got my number from a receipt he found in a parking lot? It has to be the one I gave Sherry and Dwight the other day. Then it fully hits me; that prank caller asked me about something I bought from the pharmacy three or four days prior. Oh, sweet fuck, I gave them the receipt with that purchase on it.

"You fucking idiot." I say under my breath, putting my plate down on the coffee table, no longer hungry.

 **...**

I figured I'd maybe go buy something for lunch today, since I'm a little worn out on turkey. When lunch rolls around, I lock my classroom and head towards the front. About a quarter of the way there, I glance over my shoulder and contemplate.

I get into my purse and scavenge out two quarters, four nickels, and three dimes. I'm going to go give Negan back the dollar I owe him. And...maybe offer to bring him something back. I kind of feel like a dick for being so rude to him.

Despite him being an ass, he was sort of nice to my kid, so I guess I should maybe not be so biting. I walk down to where the locker rooms are at and where his office lies. Students aren't permitted to go into the locker rooms at lunch, so the lunchtime noise slowly dies the further I get to where I'm going. I briefly glance at the glass trophy cases that line one side of the wall as I come up on the locker rooms. There are quite a few that are consecutive from the last ten years. I take it that's thanks to Coach Negan, which can't be good for his fucking ego.

As I'm about to round the corner, I spot three girls peeking down the hall where the locker rooms are. They're shushing each other and covering up their giggling with their mouths.

"Ladies?" I calmly say, but it's enough to get them to jump.

"Um.." One fiddles with her fingers, trying to muster up an explanation.

"You're not suppose to be here." I inform them, putting my hands on my hips.

"Sorry, Ms. Barnes." Another says and the three of them scurry down the other way.

It's then that I hear something around the corner. I draw closer to Negan's office and it becomes clearer to me what exactly I'm hearing and I don't believe it. I continue to walk down the hall, furrowing my brows as the grunting and moaning grows louder. I halt in place when I finally see it.

The blinds are down, but not drawn. In the frame of the office window, I see one of the math teachers bent over Negan's desk with her skirt pushed up. Her eyes are shut tight as Negan thrusts behind her; hard enough to make the metal desk make a thunderous banging. Negan's fingers grip her hips and he lets out a husky moan that dies into a pleasured chuckle. He opens his eyes and instantly sees me, but he doesn't stop ramming into Mrs. Rinaldi. Instead, he just smiles a teeth bared smile at me as he keeps going.

I chuck the change at the window, which startles Claire and makes her push him off. Her eyes widen at the realization that someone has seen them together and so she scrambles to collect herself. I spin around and stride off; listening to her tell him that she is _not_ staying to finish.

* * *

 **Thank you all for favoriting, following, and reviewing!**

 ***Disclaimer*: Pippa suffers from depression. That said, I want to clarify that I in no way wish to romanticize or glorify mental illness. Pippa's got a sardonic way of talking, but I just want to make a note of saying her character (nor I) is not trying to make depression seem edgy or cool. As someone who has struggled myself, I would never condone romanticizing mental illness. Nor do I condone Pippa's form of self medicating; it's a unhealthy coping mechanism that she has to overcome.**


	5. Chapter 5

While Coach Negan made it sound like back-to-school night was optional, I found out via email that it is mostly certainly not. It's not that I don't love teaching, but sometimes this job comes with some really dumb stipulations. I spend eight hours a day teaching seven classes, plus the countless hours after school I spend on grading and shit at school and at home. I don't want to spend three hours going over what the students will be learning in my class to a gaggle of parents. I can't fucking tell you how many times I've been hit on, or asked out by some of the dads; married and single.

My parents agreed to pick Jolyon up from daycare this afternoon, so that I can stay for the mandatory overtime that I don't think is actual overtime, which might mean I'm not getting fucking paid for it. Someone knocks on my door while I'm in the middle of sprucing up my classroom and I'm relieved to see that it's Lourdes and not Negan.

"Hey, you all jazzed for back-to-school night?"

"Sure," I grin ironically, "I always love spending time answering questions that can be answered on the syllabus."

Lourdes snickers. "I know, right? There's a reason we have your children give them to you to sign."

"And you can guarantee they'll only ever contact you after tonight when they want to know why you're failing their kid."

"Or when their kid gets in trouble and they pretend like that's impossible because their kid's a saint." Lourdes adds with an eye roll.

"Right, like I get off giving a kid detention, or an F on their plagiarized essay."

She huffs. "Well, if you were a certain coach that teaches here, that might not be so ridiculous to suspect."

I chuckle under my breath. "Yeah, what's up with him?"

"What do you mean?" Lourdes asks, though not inquisitively. "He's an asshole; that's what's up."

I nod in mild agreement. "But, I mean...you said he sleeps around. Isn't he married?"

"Yeah, but when has that ever deterred people from fucking anything that moves, if they wanted to?" Lourdes responds.

I steal a quick glance at the clock. "Well, is his wife gone a lot? Like out of town on business?"

Lourdes scoffs. "Lucille? No. She goes to some school board thing every so often, but not anything frequent, or whatever."

"She's also a teacher?"

"No, Lucille's superintendent of the school district."

"Oh."

"She use to be the principal at the elementary school, but she worked her way up."

I nod again. "Does she know about his affairs?"

"Lourdes!" A voice calls out in the hall.

Lourdes peers out in the hallway. "Hey, Terry, what's the matter?"

The school principal comes into sight. "Could I speak to you in private?" He gives me a curt, polite smile. "It's regarding a subject you may find sensitive."

"Okay," She looks back to me, "See ya later."

"Yeah, bye." I wave.

The night does not go by fast. There's only about fifteen or so minutes per "class" but it seems like more than that. I either get the parents that remain quiet as church mice throughout the entire period, so I'm stuck with trying to scrounge up something else to say after I've gone over my syllabus. Or, I get the parents who were too busy texting during my spiel to hear anything I said, so they ask questions I already answered, or they toss hypothetical what-ifs my way. The only people who had good questions were the Patels, who are Ravinder's parents. Ravinder's a student in my fourth period who is like the equivalent of Hermione Granger.

"Alright, thank you for your time," I kindly tell the exiting adults, "Have a goodnight and please don't hesitate to contact me, if you have anything questions."

Finally, it's eight o'clock, which means I get to go home. I quickly sweep up the fucking Snickers and gum wrappers I found between rows three and four of the desks. You'd fucking think an adult would know better, but I guess not. I collect my purse and car keys, turn out the lights, and lock my classroom door, before heading to the parking lot.

A few teachers say quiet, sleepy goodnights to me as I pass, before they continue to talk low with one another. The parking lot's getting dark as the sun dips down behind the buildings across the street. Little bugs dance in a swarm under the yellow lights. I'm about six cars away from mine when I hear the coach's voice. I briefly glance over my shoulder and see him talking on the phone. Unlike the last time, he's smiling and speaking with an even tone.

"Alright, I'll see you when I get home," He says into the phone, "Love you, too. Bye."

I fish out my phone to see if I missed any calls, or messages, as I casually continue walking to my car.

"Hey!" Negan shouts behind me and I assume he's talking to me, since there's no one else in the parking lot. Regardless, I keep going. "Pippa!" All of the sudden, I feel his hand grab me by the arm.

"Let go!" I pull my arm free and face him with angry eyes. "What? What the fuck do you want now?"

He holds up a little flat pendant and I immediately recognize it. "This dropped off your keys, asshole."

I reach for it, but he tugs his hand away teasingly. "Give it to me!"

Negan grins and lets out a snicker. "That's one of my favorite phrases."

I roll my eyes. "I can't imagine you hear it often."

"Actually, I heard it yesterday," He laughs, stepping closer, "You may recall interrupting that."

"I was paying you back the dollar I owed you," I claim, "It's not my fault that you were busy having Mrs. Rinaldi for lunch."

Negan scoffs, humored. "Well, thanks for seeing that I didn't get to finish."

"Any time," I retort, putting out my open palm, "Give me back the key chain...please."

He glances down at the piece in his hand. "Austin, huh? Is that where you hail from?"

"No, but I lived there for a long time."

"Where you from then?"

I blink tiredly at him. "Virginia."

"Specifically?" Negan presses.

"Specifically, none of your business." I answer blandly. "Now, hand it over."

"I've got a Swiss army knife in my glove compartment that's got a pair of pliers, I could-"

"You could give me back my fucking key chain, so I can go the fuck home already!" I finally snap.

Negan furrows his eyebrows at me, like I'm being rude. "Jesus, I was just fucking-"

"Trying to be friendly?" I chuckle incredulously. "Bullshit! You don't want to be friends, you just want to add me to the list." He just stares at me, so I carry on with a deep, mocking tone. "Let's be friends, Pippa. Come have lunch with me in my office, Pippa. Half the pizza's plain cheese, Pippa, so let me fuck you against my desk!"

Negan laughs with an aggravating smirk on his face. "I never said I wanted to fuck you against my desk, but if you're agreeable to it..."

I snatch the key chain from his hand. "Why don't you go home to your wife and leave me the fuck alone?"

"Yeah, I fucking plan to," He laughs, starting to walk off, "Have a good night, Ms. Barnes."

"Go fuck yourself." I close my Jeep door, but can still hear his amused chuckling.

 **...**

The weekend's here and my sister and her family have come down from Richmond to celebrate my niece's sixth birthday. They also brought the cat Audrey convinced me to adopt. Jolyon was so excited the night before, he begged me to go to the pet store to get some things for the cat. He also kept me up late with a barrage of bright-eyed questions, until he passed out in my bed.

We get to my parent's house and I am not relishing the fact that I see my two nieces and nephew in the window of my old bedroom. My parents, Audrey, and her husband, Ty, all come onto the porch like some welcome party. Jolyon runs over to my sister and she picks him up.

"Hi," I greet, waving.

"Hey!" They all say in near unison.

"Did you bring the kitty, Aunt Audrey?" Jolyon asks her.

"I did, Jolly," She kisses his cheek, "Let's go see it." The two of them go inside the house.

"How you liking being back this way?" Ty inquires, cordially hugging me.

"I'm still adjusting." I chuckle mildly. "How's it going?"

"Good," He informs me, "Same old, same old."

The three kids run to meet me. "Hi!" I wrap my arms around the clinging children. "You're all so big!"

We enter the house and I find Jolyon mesmerized by the cat sitting on the coffee table. Audrey smiles at me. "Jolyon wants to name him Pip."

I groan. "That's not happening."

"Why not? It's cute and it's not technically Pippa." She laughs. "Mom and I have to run some errands, do you wanna come? Leave Dad and Ty with the kids?"

"Sure," I spy the kids running up the stairs, "Uh, are your kids sleeping in my room?"

"Yeah."

"Well...why?"

"Because my room isn't big enough for five people to sleep in." Audrey explains.

"Can't they sleep in your room and you and Ty can take mine?"

"Hell no, they get into everything!"

"That's exactly my point!" I scoff, "I don't want my room being trashed."

"Girls, let's go!" Mom calls us by the door.

The three of us go to the grocery store to pick up some stuff for dinner and then go to the bakery to order a birthday cake. After we do that, we decide to get some lunch. Audrey insists on going to Lorelei's, despite my protests, and Mom agrees because Leda will be there. Once Leda sees us, she immediately comes over and after saying her hellos, she asks if I can cover a late night shift the following Saturday for a waitress who's going on vacation. I agree to, but I'm bitter, because I fucking knew this would happen if we came here.

"Remember when Mom would make us split milkshakes when we were kids?" Audrey says as she browses the menu.

"Yeah, we'd argue over which flavor to get." I glance over towards the bathrooms, where Mom went. "They'd give us two straws and you'd call me your sweetheart."

"What are you getting?"

"Um, biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns."

"That's breakfast food," She looks up from the menu, "it's one- thirty."

"They serve breakfast all day."

"Yeah, but biscuits and gravy?" She chuckles with an arched brow. "That just seems weird to have outside normal breakfast hours."

"What are you getting, smart a-" I stop mid- sentence and button my lips at the sight of Sherry and Dwight walking into the restaurant. Are you fucking kidding me?

"I'm getting the patty melt, which is lunchtime food." Audrey's smile lowers as she sees my face. She looks over her shoulder and then back at me with some uneasiness. "Um, how much you want to bet Mom's gonna order the BLT? Pippa?"

I blink back to her and smile. "Uh, yeah, that or the house salad."

The couple sits in one of the booths closest to the door and I don't think they noticed us. Mom returns and sits next to Audrey. The waitress comes back over and takes our orders. Audrey and Mom lay out what we're doing for Lea's birthday and it reminds me that I haven't gotten a gift yet.

"What sort of stuff does she like?" I ask Audrey.

"Oh, don't worry about getting her anything." She answers.

"No, I want to get her something for her birthday."

"Don't worry about it, Pip. Just save your money. Lea's getting enough for her birthday." The waitress brings us our food and I wait until she's left to say anything more.

"Save my money?" I scoff at her. "Do you think I'm hard up, or something?"

Mom gives her a warning look and Audrey shrugs innocently. "No, it's just...you're a single mom with two jobs and I know it can be tough."

"Well, don't worry about me, Audrey. I do just fine and technically I only work here on rare occasions, so it barely counts as a second fucking job."

"Hey, Pippa, could you go over to the jukebox and find my favorite song," Mom hands me fifty cents, "I didn't bring my reading glasses and the letters are too damn small."

I huff and slide out from the booth. "Fine."

I flip through the jukebox in search of the song, still sore at Audrey's implications. I know it's because she kept telling me to marry the guy who "knocked me up" three years ago and then was pissed that I wouldn't. Audrey said that it would be a good direction to take in life and might help me change the lightbulb, but I knew it wouldn't.

The men's bathroom door swings open and out comes Dwight. I didn't even see him walk past our booth. Still, I don't pay him any mind as I continue to look for that Aretha Franklin song Mom wanted.

"Oh, um, hi." He says when he sees me.

"Hi." I acridly respond with my eyes kept on flipping pages.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Dwight moves closer to the jukebox.

"A song for my mom." I curtly answer.

"Oh," He nods, "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad, D?" I finally find it and click the button, before looking at him. "Would it be because I got a prank call the other night from some teenagers that found my number on the back of a receipt that was tossed in a parking lot?"

Dwight furrows his brows and his mouth opens slightly, as if he doesn't know what to say. "I...I, uh-"

"My food's getting cold." I walk back over to the booth. Dwight also returns to his booth, sitting directly across from Sherry. I see him look this way, but I ignore him and continue eating my food.

 **...**

We barbeque for dinner and barely wait thirty minutes afterwards to cut the birthday cake, because Lea was too eager to wait. Jolyon always abandons his fork when cake's involved, so his fingers are painted in purple frosting from using them to scrape it all up. After he's taken all the frosting off, he leaves the actual cake at the table and runs off to wash his hands in the bathroom sink, before returning to play with the cat and his cousins.

I pour some more wine and go out onto the porch for some fresh air. Audrey accompanies me shortly after. "Hey, Lea told me you gave her ten bucks."

I lean on the railing. "Well, I don't know when Jolyon and I will eat next, but you know."

"I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Pip, you know that!"

I nod my head. "Yeah," I take a sip of my wine.

"So, how's the new job?"

"It's alright."

"Just alright?" Audrey snickers. "I read that school was one of the best schools in the tri- county area."

"Yeah, it's nice." I drink some more wine. "But there's this teacher there that is unbelievable."

"Oh, really?" She laughs, biting her lip. "How hot is he?"

I scoff and laugh with her. "Please, he's such an asshole."

"Okay, but is he good looking?"

I laugh some more, before thinking about it. "Um, he's...pretty good looking, I guess. But that doesn't make up for the fact that he's a dick."

"Mm, so will we get to meet him by Thanksgiving?" She cackles.

I roll my eyes at her. "No, he's married."

Audrey's laughter dies down and she knits her brows. "Seriously? And he flirts with you?"

"He does more than that," I claim, drinking the last of my glass, "He screws around with some of the teachers."

She makes a disgusted sound. "Stay away from him, then."

"Right, like I'm interested." We're both quiet for a few minutes as we listen to the fun inside and the crickets out here. "Hey, do you remember Dwight Rollins?"

"How could I forget D?" Audrey says. "He was always hanging around our house. Why?"

"Did you know he was married to Sherry McKee?"

"...Yeah, I think they got married in her parent's backyard, or something." She looks at me curiously. "Why?"

I shrug. "Everyone knew except me."

"Well, I figured it'd be better if you didn't know." Audrey explains, "I know everything that happened was hard on you and I didn't want to make things worse."

I huff through my nose. "Thanks."

Audrey scoffs. "You're seriously pissed?"

I shake my head. "Nope, just...I would have like to have known."

"It's not like it would've mattered," She adds, "You and him broke up and he clearly moved on."

"Yep," I walk towards the door, "it's getting late. Jolyon and I should probably head home."

 **...**

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of meowing. I sleepily shuffle into the living room and see our new cat pawing the window at the birds on the ground outside. Jolyon wakes up twenty minutes later, after the coffee machine beeps when the coffee's ready. I set down my cup on the coffee table and we both play with the cat, whose name is inarguably Pip, thanks to Audrey's snotty encouragement.

"I'm hungry." Jolyon says after an hour.

I look over to the clock on the wall. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Mm...donuts." He smiles.

I laugh. "Donuts? I don't know how to make donuts."

"We should go to Jelly's."

"We don't have a Jelly's here, babe." I grin. Jelly's is a donut shop that was down the street from where I lived back in Texas. We use to walk down to it some Sundays. "But donuts do sound good, so you want to go get some?"

"Yeah," Jolyon runs out of the room and down the hall, "Can I get one with sprinkles?" He shouts from his room.

I stroll down that way and lean on his doorframe as he rummages through his drawers for clothes. "Sure."

"Can I have coffee?"

"Yeah." I proceed down the hall to my room with a chuckle. Jolyon thinks he likes coffee, but it's really only a cup of milk with a dash of coffee mixed in.

After we get dressed, I drive down to the local donut shop. We sit inside the little shop as we eat our donuts. Jolyon's chatty during meals, so he takes his time eating as he asks some random questions. I pour some sugar in the coffee I ordered and smile through his inquiries.

"Are we going to Gran and Pop's again?"

"No, not today," I put the lid on the cup, "Aunt Audrey left to go home this morning, so we're gonna let Gran and Pop recuperate.

"What does that mean?" He picks an orange sprinkle off his donut and sets it aside on a napkin.

"It means they need some time to rest, after having so many guests." Audrey's kids aren't poorly behaved, they're just rowdy as fuck.

Jolyon nods. "Mommy, are we going to go back to our old house one day?"

My smile chastens and I look down at my coffee for a minute. "Um, no. We live here now, Jol."

"Are we gonna visit?" He asks before taking a swig of his coffee milk.

"...Maybe, but I don't think anytime soon," I glance at him, "Do you miss it?"

Jolyon shrugs. "Maybe he can come to our new house to visit."

I know exactly whom he's talking about. "Maybe."

The little bell to the door rings and someone enters the store. I take a bite of my cream filled donut, thinking about _him_ and how he's doing, since Jolyon brought him up.

"Pippa?"

I look over to the figure standing by me. "Oh my..." I wipe my face and stand up, "Caroline, hey!"

Dwight's mother hugs me tightly and I laugh as her blonde curly hair tickles my nose. "Hey, kiddo! I haven't seen you in... Gosh, it's been such a long time!"

"I know," I smile at her warmly, "I moved back here just recently."

"Oh my god, really?" Caroline puts her hand over her heart. "That's so good to hear. How have you been?"

"I've been good. I don't know if you remember this, but I went to school in Texas."

"Of course, I remember," She claims, "Dwight wanted to move to Austin with you and enlist from there."

I bite the corner of my lip and nod. "Yeah, yeah."

"Well, hey, does he know you're in town? I'm sure he'd love to see you. You know, he's married now?"

I chuckle nervously. "Uh, yeah, I know. I saw him and Sherry in the grocery store the other day."

"No kidding?" Caroline appears to be a little confused. "I just talked to Sherry last night and she didn't mention that."

"Must have just slipped her mind, I guess," I look over to my boy, "Caroline, this is my son, Jolyon."

Her eyes widen in astonishment. "Wow! Oh my goodness, look at him; he is adorable!"

"Thank you." I smile awkwardly. Is it weird to thank people for thinking my child's cute?

"Is dad at home?" She asks.

"Um..." I shake my head, "No."

Caroline nods in understanding. "Well, what a cutie. I keep hounding those two about grandchildren, but they just keep beating around the bush and avoiding the subject."

I snicker quietly. "I'm sure they're just waiting for the right time."

Caroline huffs and laughs. "I know, but it's been thirteen years! I want someone to spoil."

I smirk. "Well, I gotta go, but we should catch up sometime."

"Yes, of course!" Caroline reaches into her purse and brings out a notepad and pen. She scribbles down her number. "Here and you give me yours."

"Okay." I write my number down on the pad and hand it back to her.

"Great, I will definitely give you a call," She hugs me again, "It's so good to see you, sweetheart. I was just thinking about you the other day and now here you are."

"Here I am." We both chuckle.

"Alright, I'll call you and we'll do coffee, or lunch." Caroline states, waving at me as Jolyon and I leave.

"Okay, bye."

 **...**

Jolyon started to not feel well by Tuesday evening and by Wednesday; he's throwing up and running a slight fever. I wanted to stay home today and take him to the doctor's, but Mom insisted I go to work and let her do it. I keep my phone all day on my desk, just in case she calls. The morning goes by slowly, because of me being so antsy about getting a phone call.

Around fourth period, my phone finally rings. I glance over my shoulder from the whiteboard. "Uh, I have to take this." I grab my phone off the desk and head to the door. "Continue answering the questions on the board." I step out and answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, honey," Mom greets through the phone, "We're at the doctor's now."

"And?" My voice echoes in the hall.

"We're in the waiting room, but I'll let you know as soon as we see the doctor."

"Okay, how is he?"

"Your dad has him on his lap," Mom informs, "He just woke up from sleeping on the car ride over."

"Alright, well, give him my love and call as soon as you know."

"Alright, buh-bye."

"Bye, Mom." I sigh as I hang up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, the lunch bell rings and my class is empty. I put my head in my hands and wait for the phone call. My stomach grumbles and so I gather up my purse and phone, in order to leave. When I get out to the parking lot, I spot a few delivery trucks parked by the exit as a few men unload some crates of what I presume to be food.

I groan, knowing that there's no way I'll be able to get out of here, because of their asinine parking. I turn to go back inside and as I do, Negan comes strolling this way. I haven't really spoken to him since our last tiff about a week ago.

He notices me as he walks down the stairs and smirks. "Hello, Ms. Barnes."

"If you're thinking about leaving, then forget it," I say, pointing to the trucks, "They've blocked the exit."

Negan motions towards the street across from the parking lot. "I parked across the street today, because I heard Diane talking to them over the phone yesterday."

"Huh, well, hooray for you." I start up the steps.

"Wait a minute, where were you going?"

I look over my shoulder. "I was about to go get lunch, but I'll just get something from the vending machine."

"Nah, you can come with me, if you want," Negan tells me causally, "I'm going to a taco truck just down the road."

I scan his face for ulterior motives, but I don't think I can see any. "I don't know, isn't there a thing about not getting into cars with strangers?"

"I'm not a stranger," He smiles, "I'm your colleague."

"Well, they also say it's usually someone you know who'll getcha. It's on all the murder shows."

Negan chuckles, before heading off to his car. "Well, then save yourself."

I sigh at myself, walking down the steps. I can't believe I'm doing this. "Wait up!"

He peeks over his shoulder with a grin. "You're not gonna fuckin' yell at me, are you?"

"No, so long as you don't act like a dickhead." I step on the sidewalk to the passenger's side of his old Mustang.

Negan looks at me as he opens his door and smiles brightly. "I can't make any fuckin' promises there."

I stare back at him as I contemplate whether or not to get into the car. "Well, then don't expect me to not call you out on it." I open the door and get it.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Just as I get my seatbelt on and inwardly scold myself for getting into this asshole's car, my phone rings. I pull it out of my purse and answer it. "Mom?"

"Hey, we got out and are on our way to the pharmacy." My mom informs me.

"The pharmacy?" I startle a little at Negan turning on the engine. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just a little bug he probably picked up from the daycare and so the doctor's recommended some medicine."

"What about the vomiting? Did you tell her about that?" I ask, catching Negan's side-glance.

"Yes, she said he'll be fine, Pippa."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Well, your dad took him to the little cafeteria for some juice, so how about I call you later?" She says.

"Okay, thanks again for doing this." I reply.

"Alright, honey, I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Mom." I hang up the phone and put it back in my purse, sighing.

"Your kid sick, or something?" Negan asks.

"Um, yeah, he was up all night with a fever." I answer.

"Shit, that must suck."

"Yeah," I nod, looking out the window, "I take it from your wonderful way with students that you don't have any kids?"

"Nope, " He shakes his head once, "not even a dog."

I huff, somewhat humored. "Are you one of those teachers that 'likes' kids, but doesn't want to come home to any?"

Negan smiles, but keeps his eyes on the road. "So, your mom took him to the doctor's?"

"Yeah, I couldn't get a sub, so..."

"What about his dad?" He looks over at me. "Why didn't he do it?"

"Not in the picture." I simply reply.

"Dead, or deadbeat?"

I scoff as we come up on a food truck. "Not everything's a this or that situation. Sometimes things are more complicated."

"Uh-huh." Negan responds, unconvinced. He pulls into the little lot where the truck sits.

After buying some tacos, we drive back to the school and Negan parks in the same spot. I was planning on getting out of the car and going back to my classroom, but when I see him unwrap the tin foil while still sitting in the driver's seat, I stay. Don't ask why, but I eat in his car with him.

"So, how long have you been married?" I ask after some time.

Negan guffaws at my question. "Jesus Christ, I fucking get it, alright?"

"Get what?"

"I'll keep it in my pants." He takes another bite of his taco.

I bite one of my tacos as well, before answering. "I was just asking for small talk."

"Twenty years."

"Hm."

"What the fuck does that mean?" He chuckles.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. Nothing facetious, though." We go back to eating for a moment.

"So, are you divorced, or what?"

I snicker uncontrollably. "No, I'm not. I've never been married."

"Knocked up and unwed, huh?"

I arch my brow at him and feel a small smile. "Yeah, now I live on the outskirts of town, shunned by society with my illegitimate child."

Negan laughs a little. "Well, you sure seem like you got a fuckin' handle on shit."

"Thank you," I chew, "I try my best."

"How old's the kid?"

"Three." The bell can be heard ringing from the car. "I guess we better get back to class."

Negan sighs, balling up the tin foil his tacos came in and tossing it in the back. "Yep."

"Thanks for driving me."

"No problem," He opens his car door and I open mine, "Maybe you can drive next time."

 **...**

Jolyon's fever subsides by Thursday afternoon and he starts to feel better Friday morning, so I don't feel as guilty about working the late shift at Lorelei's Friday night. After taking Louis up on the offer of a Denver omelet, I go outside for a smoke. A truck pulls in just as I leave the diner, so I walk around to the side.

I can hear the gravel crunch underneath his feet as he approaches and I pray that the darkness covers me from sight. However, praying never did me any favors and it sure as hell didn't help me out now, either. His shadow is present before him, but Dwight eventually comes into view.

"Hey." He says with a scratchiness in his voice.

"Hey, D." I take out my lighter. "Can I getcha some coffee and a menu?"

Dwight pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Sure."

"I'll get right on that," I stick my cigarette between my lips, "As soon as I finish this cigarette."

He fiddles around the pockets of his pants and jacket, but I think he's coming up empty handed for a lighter. After lighting mine, I strike the lighter again and hold it out. Dwight steps closer and leans in, cupping his hands around the flame that illuminates the left side of his face. "Thanks."

"No problem." I puff, returning my head forward and gazing at the trees.

"I didn't know she tossed your phone number," He says after smoke exhales from his nose, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I put the cigarette back up to my lips, "I love getting asked if I enjoy my intense touch lube by a punk sixteen year old. Hey, maybe it wasn't even a prank call; it could have just been a customer survey."

Dwight scoffs, frustrated. "Well, who gives someone a receipt with personal shit on it?"

I scoff back in a mocking manner. "Are you really trying to blame this on me?"

"No, but..." He sighs and smokes exits with his breath, "You don't have to be a bitch about it. I apologized."

"For your wife," I step on my cigarette, grinding it out in the dirt, "You know what? It's whatever; apology accepted."

"My mom said she ran into you last Sunday."

I tuck my hands in my apron pockets. "Yeah, Jolyon and I saw her at the donut shop."

Dwight takes another drag. "She said you exchanged numbers and that she was gonna call you."

"Mhm and I don't think I'm gonna be getting another strange call this time."

He huffs. "I thought you were over it?"

"I am over it." I lean up against the wall. "But why didn't you tell Sherry that I was back in town? Fuck, why didn't you tell your mom?"

"She would've told Sherry," Dwight replies nonchalantly, "They work together and she probably wouldn't think anything of it."

"So...you specifically didn't want Sherry to know? Why?"

"Why do you think?"

I feel my throat grow sore and force out a scoff. "We dated in high school. You and her have been married longer than we ever went out. Is a high school sweetheart really that bothersome to her?" I study his expression and can see that I might have stung, so my face relaxes. "She shouldn't be so insecure about it, know why?"

"...Why Pippa?"

I start to walk back to the diner. "Because you said you loved me and then married her three months after we ended things. So, what's she worried about?"

As soon as I get back into the diner, I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. When I get out, I watch his car drive off while the jukebox plays "You Make Me Want to Shout."


	6. Chapter 6

"Mommy?" A soft finger touches my eyelid. "Mommy?"

"Hm, what?" I attempt to lift up my eyelids that feel like they weigh ten pounds each.

"I had a bad dream," He whispers, "Can I sleep in your room?"

"Yeah, baby," I answer with a sore throat, "Go ahead."

"Okay," He gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek, "Night, Mama."

I hear the pitter-patter of his non-socked feet padding down the hall to my bedroom. I shift my body a little bit and force myself to sit up, despite the fact that my head pounds like drum. The clock on the wall reads two forty-five in the morning. Fuck. I work myself up to get off the couch, where I fell asleep last night after drinking.

I let out a groan as I fight the heaviness of my limbs, as well as the stiffness in my neck and shuffle like a zombie to my bedroom. I tried not to let that conversation with Dwight get to me, but it did and it was my own damn fault. It was the last thing I said before I walked off that broke my heart. But hey, screw it; he's to blame too. He didn't have to bring up that shit, or smoke where I smoked. Fuck him.

I managed to act cool all day after my shift. As I may have mentioned before, I'm good at playing straight, but then the sun goes down and I'm myself again. So, I put Jolyon to bed and got hammered.

I enter my room and see Jolyon curled up on the opposite side of my bed that's never made. I peel off my jeans and tank top and pull a long t-shirt over my head. Then, I wrap my hair up with a clip and scarf, before climbing into bed.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" I smile at the feel of the back of Jolyon's small hand on my forehead.

"Are you sick?" He murmurs.

I open my eyes and meet his gaze. "No, I'm not sick."

"Do you not feel well?"

That means something different to him and it makes me hate myself because of it. To Jolyon, me not feeling well means that I'm not sick in the usual take-your-temperature sort of way. It means I'm hungover. He doesn't quite understand what being drunk or hungover means, or why it happens to me, but he does know that I'm unwell and unwell often. I can hide my drinking, but I can't hide aftermath the next day.

I take his hand and kiss it. "No, baby," I lie to him, "I'm just very tired."

 **...**

"Remember; your essays are due on Friday," I remind my fourth period class, as they exit, "Requests for extensions end Wednesday evening, so after that; don't ask."

Ravinder approaches my desk to turn in her homework. "Um, Ms. Barnes?"

"Yes?" I ask, collecting the stack of fourth period homework.

"Last year, a few students wanted to start a book club, but we couldn't because we couldn't get a teacher to delegate."

"Oh." I nod, unsure of why she's telling me this.

I don't have to wait long, because she produces a paper and hands it to me. "I was wondering if you might be interested in being the club delegate."

I take the form from her and look it over. "Um...well-"

"You don't have to answer right away," Ravinder assures, "You can think it over, if you want. But just to point out, you don't actually have to participate. You'd just have to host the club in your classroom one day a week at lunch."

"Uh, well," I look up at her, "I will definitely think about it and get back to you."

She smiles and nods. "Okay, cool. Thanks, Ms. Barnes."

"Hey, nerd!" A girl shouts from the hall, prompting both Ravinder and I to turn our heads. The girl smirks at Ravinder and the two other girls with her giggle, which makes her giggle as well. "Do you have a dollar on you?"

"Um, no," Ravinder grips the straps of her backpack. "I brought lunch."

"Ugh," The girl rolls her eyes, "Thanks for nothing, sis."

"Nice overalls, Rav." One of the other girls laughs, causing another round of cackling, before they all walk off. Ravinder looks down at her blue overalls, self-consciously.

"I like your outfit, Ravinder." I smile at her and I'm not even lying to be nice.

"Thanks," She shrugs her shoulder, "That was my sister, Nanda and her friends."

"Seniors?"

"Yeah," She nods, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, have a nice day."

Ravinder sulks out the door, but stops abruptly just before she runs into someone. She looks up. "Um, sorry, Coach." She then nervously maneuvers around Negan to leave.

Negan walks in with a raised brow towards the hall that Ravinder just went down. "She a student of yours?"

"Why else would she be leaving my classroom?" I clasp my hands together on my desk. "Is she a student of yours?"

He sighs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, she's one of those brainy types that aren't too fuckin' good at anything physical."

"Poor thing," I softly say, "What a shame to have you as a gym teacher."

Negan chuckles, sitting on one of the desk tops. "What's that?" He motions to the lavender colored club form.

"Ravinder gave it to me," I stick it into a drawer, "It's for a club she wants me to delegate."

He scoffs. "Clubs are dorky as shit."

"Says the man who coaches pretty much every sports team at this school."

"Sports and clubs are fuckin' different."

I huff. "The only difference between is the phony baloney value the schools assign to teenagers chasing after a ball."

Negan grins toothily. "I guess it's safe to say that you were a fucking nerd in school that could pass any class, but gym."

"Wrong, asshole," I give a mocking wag of my head, "I played softball and I was a cheerleader. But yes, I was smart."

"Oh-ho-ho," He bites his lip, "Do fucking tell."

"What's to tell?" I pull out that form again and uncap my pen.

"Can you do the splits?" He inhales a throaty laugh. "Can you catch _and_ pitch?"

I roll my eyes, as I fill out the club form. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Very much so."

I sign the bottom and then lay the form back into my drawer. "What's up? What do you want?"

"Wanna drive me to the deli?"

"I brought my lunch."

"Okay, cool," He gets up and treads casually over to my desk, "Wanna drive me to the deli?"

"No," I smile at him, "Seems like a waste of time for me."

"Eat on the way there."

I twist my mouth to the side. "I don't know."

"I promise you won't fuckin' end up on Dateline." Negan jokes.

"Would your wife mind?"

He furrows his eyes, before rolling them again. "Jesus, I don't know what your pal Lourdes told you, but my wife isn't going to hunt you down and bash your fucking brains in for talking to me, or giving me a ride."

I chuckle into a sigh. "Maybe some other time."

 **...**

After school, I leave to go get Jolyon to bring him back here. As I'm walking down the hall, I notice Lourdes talking on the phone and walking my way. She seems angry and is speaking Spanish into the phone. I understand Spanish from taking it in high school and college, but Lourdes is talking too heatedly for me to catch what's being said exactly. Something about not wanting "you" to go someplace.

"Why can't it wait 'til the weekend?" She says in English, "Then I could go with you." She sees me and smiles, waving, before her brows knit at what's being said on the other side. "Yeah, but I just thought we could-... yeah...okay, fine. Bye."

She hangs up the phone and makes a frustrated sound. I smile, "Going home?"

"Yes, but to what?" Lourdes tosses her phone in her purse.

"Are you okay?" I inquire, because she seems upset.

"Boy troubles," She smirks briefly, "It's my boyfriend. He's going to Virginia Beach for work and it was unexpected."

"Oh, what does he do?" I pretend like I don't already that a hanging suspicion.

"Simon works for a supplying company." She vaguely says, but I know what that means. "It sucks, because the summer's almost over and I could really use a beach trip."

I chuckle mildly as we both head to the front. "I haven't been to Virginia Beach in ages."

Lourdes scoops up her car keys from her purse. "You know, there's a beach about an hour or so from here. We should maybe go."

"Oh, that sounds fun, but my parents are busy this weekend and I don't have anyone else to watch my son."

"You have a kid?" She tilts her head my way.

"Yeah, I'm walking over to Happy Hands to get him now."

"Well, he can come along." Lourdes suggests, "We'd just be hanging out on the beach."

I bite my lip apprehensively in thought. "Um...okay, why not?" I grin.

"Alright!" She gleams. "We'll discuss it more later."

"Okay, see ya."

I borrowed a shark documentary from the library to put in the overhead television in my class to keep Jolyon occupied. He sits stunned in a desk as he watches, while his hand aimlessly scribbles on the coloring book he has. I don't know if he's amazed, or terrified but he hasn't said a word since a shark breached the surface to catch a seal.

"You alright over there?" I ask after a while.

"Yeah." He answers without looking away.

"If it's too scary, you don't have to watch it."

"I'm not scared." He says with saucer eyes.

I slide my chair back. "Why don't we go get something from the vending machine?"

"Okay." Jolyon slinks out of the desk seat and doesn't look away from the screen, until I pause it.

We stroll down the hall to the vending machines and Jolyon asks a myriad of questions about sharks that you don't have to be a fucking marine biologist to answer.

"No, baby," I shake my head and chuckle, "There are no sharks in the river." Although I did just hear that narrator say it was possible for one type of shark, but what's the use in scaring him?

"Can they get on the land?"

"Nope, they have to be in water, or else they'll die."

"That's sad..." He notes, "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I not take a bath tonight?"

I snicker as we enter the break room. "I guess, but you'll have to take one tomorrow night."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get stinky, if you don't bathe," I enlighten, "Want fish crackers?"

"No," Jolyon vehemently shakes his head, "I want those." He points to some fruit snacks. "I want to press the button."

"Okay." I put a dollar in and lift him up to press B-7.

"You do it." He points to the door, now more afraid than ever I imagine about losing a hand.

We go back from whence we came and as we pass the gym, the sound of something bouncing against the hard floors gains both our attentions. I peer from the window of the one door and see just Negan in there, shooting some hoops. One of the doors is propped open and Jolyon just walks right up to it to have a look.

"Good job!" He shouts after a ball goes into the net, his voice bouncing up to the ceiling.

Negan abruptly turns around and surveys us over by the door. "Well, thank you, young man," He smiles, striding up, "Wanna give it a shot?" He points over to where the basketball rolled.

Jolyon looks up at me for permission. "Yeah, go for it." I smile, accepting his bag of fruit snacks when he hands them to me. "I hope he didn't give you a fright there, Coach."

Negan scoffs. "I don't scare easy."

"Really? Because I'm fairly certain I saw you jump a little when Jolyon called out." I snicker.

He chuckles. "He took me by surprise is all."

"Yeah and startled you," I retort, eyeing him, "I think I can see you still trying to calm your trembling heart."

"Fuck you." Negan laughs, before putting his hand to the side of his mouth, "Nice form!" He tells Jolyon, who made a shot that landed barely two feet away from him. "Cute kid."

"Well, he is half mine," I joke and we both chuckle mildly, "We better get back. I've got a few more grades to enter in and he's got to finish watching a documentary that's for sure gonna land him in my bed tonight."

"Is it the one about how much it costs to have a baby? Because that one always scares the kids into shitting their pants in health class." Negan laughs. "That and childbirth videos. Can't tell you how many puke without actually seeing the graphic shit."

"Do you teach health, too?" I ask curiously.

"Fifth and sixth," He confirms, "Right after lunch, so it's all good fun."

I smile faintly. "It's a shark doc and let's just say I didn't realize how bloody the water was going to get."

Negan laughs, looking over at me. "Great parenting."

"Hey, parenting isn't about being perfect," I inform him with a smirk, "It's a constant learning process and there is grace in learning from your mistakes."

"What if you don't make mistakes?" He raises his brows in taunting.

"Well, then I'd fucking say you aren't human." I glance over to Jolyon, who's running after the ball he tried to dribble. "Jol, come on! We gotta go back."

"Aw!" Jolyon whines, slinking his shoulders down in disappointment.

"I know, I know." I put my hand out for him, "But we gotta get this done, so we can go home."

"I could watch him, while you finish," Negan offers casually, "I don't have anyplace to be anytime soon."

"What about going home?"

"Practice just got over," He says, "My wife's not expecting me home for another hour and half."

I cringe at the mention of his wife. Even though he wouldn't be doing anything wrong, knowing what I know about Negan, it still feels strange for him to be with Jolyon and I, while he nonchalantly blows off going home.

"Um, I guess it's okay." I answer nervously. "Jolyon, I'm gonna be down the hall, okay? You can stay here with Coach Negan, if you want."

"Yay!" Jolyon cheers. I smile and then apprehensively return to my class.

An hour later, after getting everything done and cleaned up, I gather up mine and Jolyon's stuff and head back to the gymnasium. I can hear Jolyon's voice and laughter, as well as Negan and the bouncing of a basketball. I peek through the doorframe and see them both in the middle of the court on adjacent ends with a basketball.

"Ready?" Negan asks Jolyon.

"Yeah!" Jolyon nods.

"Okay, take your shot."

Jolyon shoots and, of course, misses. The ball bounces a few times, before rolling over towards the bleachers. "Aw, missed!" Jolyon laughs.

Negan chuckles under his breath. "Alright, let me show you how it's fuckin' done."

"Okay."

Negan shoots and the basketball travels around the rim, before dropping down into the basket and hitting the floor. "Boom! That's game."

"Again?" Jolyon suggests, putting his hand up for a hi-five.

"Yeah, sure." Negan hi-fives.

I walk into the gym and my clogs make noise to indicate that I'm here. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hey, whatcha playin'?" I ask, looking between them.

"H.O.R.S.E." Jolyon answers. "I lost, but that's okay."

"You did?" I glance over at Negan who's smiling. "Kind of seems like maybe your opponent should've gone easy on you."

"Hey, just because someone can go easy on you, doesn't mean that they will," Negan remarks, smartly, "It's a good life lesson and besides, it's kind of fucking hard to lose when my opponent is two."

"Three." Jolyon corrects, holding up three fingers.

"Three, excuse me."

"Jolyon can't even spell horse, so how does he know you weren't cheating?" I cross my arms, amused.

"Baby, I didn't need to cheat and if he didn't know how to spell horse before, he sure fuckin' does now." He winks and makes a click sound in the corner of his smirk.

"Ass." I snicker, before redirecting to Jolyon. "Come on, baby, it's time to go home."

"What's for dinner?" Jolyon slings his backpack on.

"Food." I look back to Negan, flickering my eyes over him. "Thanks for watching him."

"Sure thing." He grins.

"Bye." Jolyon waves at him.

"See ya later, kid."

Jolyon and I walk towards the open door. I feel weird and I don't know why. As we go through the door and exit the gym, a held in breath gracelessly exhales from my lungs.

 **...**

Lourdes' house is nice. It's no bigger than mine, but the outside is lovely. It's simple, yet beautifully landscaped. I don't know if I should honk, or go up to her door and knock. Some part of me really didn't think that she was serious about going to the beach this weekend, but Thursday after school, she asked if I was still up for going and I impulsively said yes.

It's not that I don't like Lourdes, she's nice and all, but I'm somewhat of a homebody, unless it involves just me, myself, and Jolyon. I never use to be like that, but sometime in college was when I noticed that I just preferred to be left the fuck alone, except when it's on my terms. Loneliness is only sad, if you want for social interaction.

After a minute, I open my car door to get out. I tell Jolyon I'll be right back and roll down the windows. I walk up to the door and ring the doorbell, which sends a dog on the other side in a frenzy of barking.

"Quiet!" I hear Lourdes call out. "Shush! Cállate!" The door abruptly opens. "Hey!" She smiles through the crack.

"Hi," I can't help but look downward at the dog she's trying to keep in.

"Don't worry," She says, noticing, "She doesn't bite, I'm just trying to stop her from bolting out the door."

"Oh, okay." I feel somewhat relieved.

"I'll be out in a minute. I just gotta put her in her crate." Lourdes claims, "It's Simon's dog. She's use to going everywhere with Simon, but she got left with me, instead."

I nod, glancing back at the ugly oblong face of the dog. "Uh, well...is she kid friendly?"

"Oh, yeah," She nods her head, "She's friendly, just wilier than shit."

I look back at Jolyon. "You could bring her, I guess."

"Oh, no, it's alright!" Lourdes says with a smile. "She'll be fine in her crate in the garage."

"But it's a hot day," I point out, not knowing fully why I'm advocating for a dog I know nothing about, "It's...It's fine, really. If she's good around kids, then I don't mind if she tags along. I wouldn't feel right about her having to spend all day in a crate."

Lourdes looks over at the dog in contemplation. "You really wouldn't mind? Because I don't mind leaving her here; she'll have plenty of water and I can turn a fan on."

"No, it's okay," I assure her, half of me thinking it's a bad idea, "She can come."

Lourdes and the bull terrier, Cleo, come out ten minutes later. Lourdes sticks a cooler in my trunk, as well as a blanket for the dog to sit on. However, Cleo leaps over the seat, licks Jolyon's face, takes his quarter of a poptart, and then lies down on the seats. Lourdes chides the dog, but I tell her it's okay and Jolyon got a laugh out of it.

The ride over to the beach is rather pleasant. We talk about some work related stuff for a few minutes, but then the rest of the way is just idle and nice. Lourdes and I have some things in common and so we laugh about that. Once we get to the beach, we unload and find a spot to lay everything out.

The beach is nice and warm and not too crowded today. People always say that the beach is a place of relaxation, but I never could on one of those touristy places where there's so much noise and commotion. This beach is calm and while there's laughter and splashing, it's just a patch of sand that a few people temporarily inhabit.

Jolyon's still a little traumatized from seeing that documentary, so he refuses to go past ankle deep water. Cleo seems to be just as chicken, as Lourdes tries to goad her into the water, but she'll only travel until her feet can't touch the sand and then paddles back to the shore. So, the two of them hang on shore, while Lourdes and I wade up to our navels a few feet away.

We watch Jolyon look for seashells, while also tossing a driftwood stick for Cleo to chase. She darts further than where it actually lands, probably because she's not use to playing fetch with a three year old, but always manages to run back to exactly where the stick landed and then gives it back to Jolyon.

"She's pretty well- behaved," I note, chuckling at her mad sprint past the stick that was tossed ten feet from Jolyon, "Better than you implied."

Lourdes laughs at the dog. "Yeah, well, tell that to the cushions on my couch that she's shredded and all the flower beds she's dug up."

I smile. "So, you and him live together?"

"Yeah," She nods, "He moved in just recently. Like two months ago." Lourdes cackles a little to herself. "Terry gave me a warning about Simon being around during school hours."

"Why?"

"Because someone reported us having sex in his car across the street," She explains with a huff, "My money's on Negan."

"Jolyon!" I call out to him and he looks at me. "Don't put the seaweed in the bucket, it's not going home with us!" I then look back to Lourdes who's laughing. "Why do think he did it?"

"Because he's a jerk and he likes to fuck with people, just for the hell of it." She glides her hand through the water. "And…because him and I use to fool around."

I try not to look so surprised. "Oh." Is all I can say.

"I broke it off in February," Lourdes goes on, "I found someone who wasn't married and...has more time for me and an actual relationship."

"That's good." I reply, neutrally. The stick Jolyon throws lands in the water and Cleo barks, so Lourdes wades over to get it.

"I don't want you to think that I wanted Negan to leave his wife for me, or anything like that." She says on her way back over.

"I don't," I shake my head, "and even so, it's none of my business."

"I just...I don't know what I was thinking, you know? He's a royal ass, but...there's just something enticing about him that draws you in like a fly to a zapper." Lourdes sighs, watching out for Cleo on the shore. "No sé, pero...I woke up one day and said 'I don't deserve to be the other woman' and ended things."

I gaze at her as I take in the words she's said. "Well, good for you for realizing that. You're better off for it, I'm sure."

Lourdes gives me a bleak smile. "Yeah."

We get out of the water and go sit down on our towels to eat lunch. Lourdes brought beer, unbeknownst to me, but I take one when it's offered and nurse it. Cleo keeps running over to other people's spaces to visit, so Lourdes has to keep calling her back over, or having to physically go over and retrieve her.

"You didn't get bited by a shark?" Jolyon asks sitting on my lap.

"Mm, nope," I shake my head, "I did not get _bit_ by a shark. You want to try to go in after lunch?"

Jolyon looks anxiously at the water for a minute. "No, that's okay."

After we eat, I lie down on my towel and throw my sunglasses on. Lourdes reads a magazine and Jolyon tries to make sandcastles. My mind drifts for a while, thinking about how this is turning out to be a really nice day and that I'm glad I didn't back out last minute. The weather's fine and dandy, I seem to have made a new friend, and I'm on the verge of serenity.

It's one of those days that makes you recall other days that were similar and just as keen. Like when Dwight and I use to go down to the river. We'd go to this secluded area, where you'd have to paddle in a little dingy to get to. There, we'd lay a blanket on the one side of a knoll and make out. We we're sixteen when I convinced him to go skinny-dipping in the dark. I didn't think he'd actually agree to it and I remember us both only stripping down to our underwear out of youthful nervousness.

"Want another beer?" Lourdes asks me.

I sit up and take hold of my half empty bottle. "No, I'm good." I drink a deep swig, because I chartered into unwelcome territory.

"Oh, goddamn it, Cleo!" Lourdes yells after the dog, who's run off. "That damn dog!"

"I'll go get her." I offer, sitting up and sliding on my flip-flops. I wander to the right, where she ran. I hear laughter and some mild frustration, which means I'm on the right trail. "Cleo!" I call; walking around the tree that somewhat conceals the identity of the beach goers. "Cleo!"

"Oh, come on, Sher," A girl giggles, "It's just a dog!"

I discover the people that Cleo's saying hello to and I feel like looking up into the fucking sky and saying; fucking really? It's Dwight, Sherry, and some younger girl who looks kind of familiar.

"Dwight, stop feeding it!" Sherry snaps.

"Honey, relax," He rubs Cleo's back as she eats something, "She's probably just lost."

"Yeah, well, her owner should really respect the leash law." Sherry huffs.

I let out a whistle and it gets Cleo's attention, so she runs over to me. All three humans also look my way. "Uh, sorry about that." I apologize.

"Oh, Pippa," Sherry's scowl lessens, "This is your dog?"

"No, it's my friend's dog," I say, taking Cleo gently by the collar, "Sorry, she's a runner."

Sherry starts to say something, but Dwight speaks first. "It's not a big deal."

"Hi, I don't think we've met," The younger girl smiles, putting her hand out, "I'm Tina, Sherry's sister."

I extend my hand. "I'm Pippa."

"Tina, Pippa and I cheered together." Sherry tells her as if a lightbulb is supposed to go off in her head.

"Oh, cool." Tina grins. Now that I recall, I do remember Sherry having a sister, but she was like eight years younger.

I glance at Dwight and then back at Sherry. "She didn't ruin anything, did she?"

"No, although Dwight did just give her all our cheese." Sherry shoots an unimpressed look to her husband.

"Oh, well, we've got plenty back at ours," I point over my shoulder, "If you want, you can have some to make up for it."

"That's-"

"Thanks," Dwight stands up and looks at Sherry, "I'll be right back."

Sherry shrugs and sighs. "Alright. Make it quick." She then looks at me and smiles. "Nice seeing you again!"

"Likewise." I smile and then turn to leave. I pick up another stick to get Cleo to follow me without having to pull her by the collar.

"You far?"

"Hm?" I turn my head towards Dwight.

"Where you're picnicking? Is it far?"

"Oh, no," I shake my head, "Not at all." Cleo barks, so I toss the stick for her to fetch. "You come to this beach often?"

"No, one of Tina's friends recommended it." Dwight answers, "She's visiting from D.C. for the weekend."

"Hm," I nod, taking the stick back from the dog and throwing it again, "Listen, Dwight, about the other night...can we call it water under the bridge?"

"Sure."

"I mean it," I firmly state, "It was stupid and I don't want to carry it around anymore."

D glances my way and nods. "Okay, so don't, because it's water under the bridge."

I grin faintly. "Okay," I peek over my shoulder, "I'm sorry about the dog."

"Ah, don't worry about it," He sighs, "She's having a rough week."

I don't need to inquire further to know what that means. We walk up on Jolyon, Lourdes, and... some random dude that's definitely giving Lourdes a flirty smile. But the thing is, is that Lourdes is smiling up at him with a somewhat milder, albeit same look. Cleo runs up to her and she looks back my way. The guy tells her to 'think about it' and then walks off. Lourdes commands Cleo to sit and she does, for the mean time. Jolyon waves at Dwight and Dwight smiles and says hi.

"This is my...friend, Dwight," I tell a bewildered Lourdes, "He gave Cleo all of his cheese, so I was just bringing him over to pay him back."

"Oh, okay," Lourdes nods, getting to the cooler, "Here you go." She produces the remaining cheese slices we have. "You can have the rest. Sorry about that."

"Thanks and don't sweat it." Dwight takes it from her. He then looks at me and grins mildly. "Well, I guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, you bet." I smile oddly. He walks off, back towards his wife and sister-in-law.

"How do you know him?" Lourdes asks.

I sit down on my towel. "We went to highschool together," I look at her, "Who was that guy?"

Lourdes waves her hand, dismissively. "Oh, he was just asking me if I wanted to go swimming with him, but I told him no."

I nod, before resting my head down on my knees and watching Jolyon play in the sand.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's installment!**

 **CLTex: Thank you for your support! I'm glad you're liking the story so far! I'm also happy that you enjoy the detail, because sometimes I think I get a little too fixed on detail, since I'm a perfectionist, so thanks for appreciating it!**

 **Dawn: I agree, non-Savior leader might be a little more appealing. While I absolutely love him in canon, bat-wielding asshole mode, I think it's a little more fun to write him in a situation where the OC isn't afraid to throw whatever he can dish out back to him. And thank you for the thoughts on how I write Pippa and her son's connection. I owe the child dialogue and actions to the years I spent babysitting!**

 **PruRose: As always, you are so gracious and kind on my writing! Thank you, thank you! I got the idea to make Dwight a truck driver from the episode of TWD where Daryl first meets him and he and Sherry are trying to get to the yard where a bunch of fuel trucks are. I don't know if that's what was implied, but I decided to go for it. I'm happy you like Pippa and Jolyon, whose name is pronounced Jol-ee-un (similar to Julien). Lol I had to add a little Rick the prick bit in there, but I'm surprised no one noticed the Dixon brothers at the hotel, ha ha.**

 **Remember. Innocence: Thank you for the kind words on my OCs and how they interact with canon characters. I'm always picking my brain on how to create seamless, realistic dialogue and reactions, so I appreciate your feedback, because it makes me feel like I'm doing what I set out to do.**


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of August goes by and the heat goes with it. The weather has mostly stayed in the seventies, but at least it's a nice warmth, instead of a thick heat. The past two weeks have been pretty decent as well. I think I'm starting to finally settle into being back here. Our house is shaping up to feel like a home, thanks to my kick ass eye for decor, and Jolyon seems to be pretty content with being here. Granted he asks about Texas here and there, but that can be easily quelled with a promise of going back for a visit one day. Sometimes he re-entertains the possibility of "him" coming to see us and I don't have the heart to tell him that that isn't a strong odd.

Tonight, Jolyon and I are having dinner at my parents' house. Mom made chili and cornbread, one of my favorites, and an apple pie. Jolyon said he only wanted ice cream, but he keeps curiously poking his fork over onto my plate at the slices of apple in my pie.

"Let me cut you a slice, Jol." I finally offer, after he popped a piece of apple into his mouth and then immediately reached back over.

"No, I don't want any." He chews.

Mom smiles at him, adoringly. "How about I scoop you out just the apples?"

Jolyon thinks for a second, before he nods his head. "Okay!"

"Alright," She spoons some of the pie guts onto his plate of pooling vanilla ice cream, "Do you want some coffee, honey?"

"No, I'm good." I sip the bourbon that Dad poured for me, because he believes apple pie's nothing without a little bourbon.

"I just brewed it." Mom takes my empty glass from my hand and goes into the kitchen.

I glance over at Dad, who motions his head towards the kitchen. I sigh, rolling my eyes and getting up from my chair and following her. "Listen, Mom, I know you worry, but it was only a little bourbon and I-"

"Oh, I don't care about that," She says, going over to the sink to turn on the warm water, "I just don't want you to drive home without some coffee under your belt is all. It's late."

"Okay," I reach into the cabinet above the coffee maker for a mug, "So...you aren't mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" Mom looks over from the sink in genuine question.

"I don't know," I shrug.

Mom turns back to doing the dishes. "Well, I'm not mad."

"Good." I stir some milk and sugar into my coffee.

"You know who I saw the other day?" She asks, after I bring in the rest of the dishes from the dining room.

"I don't know, who?"

"Caroline Rollins," Mom smiles at me, "I saw her at the bank."

"Really? You saw her at the place she's worked at since she was eighteen?" I smirk into my coffee.

"Smart ass," Mom shakes her head at the dishes, "Well, anyway, she told me that she saw you a few weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah. She was at the donut shop."

"Right, well, she told me how beautiful she thought you looked."

I scoff under my breath. "Did she?"

"She said you looked like you hadn't aged a day since she last saw you." Mom goes on.

"Well...I moisturize."

"Well, I agree with her, Pippa."

"I should hope so, considering I'm your daughter." I chuckle.

"What I'm getting at is that you are a beautiful girl and I-"

"Are you trying to ask me out?" I tease, already picking up on what she's trying to put down.

Mom sighs, pulling her hands out of the sudsy water and snatching up a towel. "Pippa! Be serious for a minute, please."

"Okay, sorry," I put both hands on the island counter, "Go ahead."

"I was thinking that maybe you should try to get out there and...maybe meet someone."

"Who is he?"

"What?" She inquires, but I can tell the innocence is not sincere.

"The guy you want me to go on a date with?" I clarify, raising my brow at her. "You must have a friend who has a son, or whatever, who's single, right?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh please, Mom!" I roll my eyes. "You're always trying to set me up with someone you barely know!"

"I've known Cathy for years!" She retorts, "And she told some good things about her son, Marcus. You remember him, right?"

"Uh, yeah, but he was two grades above me, so I haven't seen him in fifteen years."

"Well, I saw a picture of him and let me just say that if I were your age and single, I'd give him the time of day."

I laugh, picking at the crust on the remaining pie. "Mom, you always say shit like that and then I agree to go out with the guy and he turns out to be terrible."

"That is a lie, because you have never given anyone a chance that I think would be good for you."

"No, _that_ is a lie, mother," I argue back, "There was that guy who was the grandson of some lady you go to church with and you thought it'd great, since we both happen to live in Austin. And then, I went out on a few dates with him and he was all smiles and princely gestures until I suggested, on the fourth date keep in mind, that he come inside. He gave me a lecture about how premarital sex is a sin and how I didn't respect myself."

"So, he was raised a little old-fashioned," Mom shrugs, "I don't always think that's such a bad thing."

"It is when you tell your date that she commits sins of the flesh and then get confused when she doesn't call you again." I snicker, eating some piecrust. "Imagine if I had had Jolyon at that point. A child out of wedlock? Boy, I think he would've burned me at the stake."

"Okay, well, that was a bad set up, but I've met Marcus and I think he's really a nice, well- rounded boy."

"Yeah, but people are different in different situations," I retort, "Most dudes are nice around their moms and their mom's friends, then completely fucking awful the rest of the time."

"So...I should tell Cathy it's a no go?" Mom asks.

"I'm not really looking for anyone right now, Mom."

"I know, honey, but maybe if you dip your toes in a little, you might find that the water's not so bad," She smiles sweetly at me, "Jolyon was talking to me about you-know-who and I just think that if he's not in the picture, then maybe someone else can fill in. Jol really seems like he wants that type of attention."

"I'm not going to hitch my trailer to someone else's, just because you think Jolyon needs a father figure, Mom." I go to the sink and bitterly wash my hands. "I don't need anyone to make my life better and neither does Jolyon."

"Stewing in the past isn't going to make things better, either." She softly fires back.

"You know what? I think Jolyon and I should head home," I turn the sink off and shake my hands dry on my way to the living room, "Thanks for dinner, Mom."

 **...**

The coffee in the breakroom at work is always burned and lukewarm. I'm thirty-one years old and I still have no idea how it's even possible to burn coffee. It's a fucking liquid for Christ's sake. But, I could really use a cup of the shit after tossing and turning all night. I feel bad about how things ended last night at my parent's, but I don't fucking need any outside assistance in my personal life, alright?

I'm not interested in meeting some man who's going to touch me with his less than magical wand and fix all my woes. I do alright on my own, always have and always will and you can quote me on that. And Jolyon doesn't need a strong father figure to be complete, either. Fuck those ye old views.

I drink some of the coffee from my styrofoam cup and wince at the dark bitterness of it, despite the sugar and powdered creamer I stirred in. Lourdes laughs as she enters the room and sees my face. "Delicious, right?"

"Real superb." I force down another gulp.

"You should've called me," She states as she sticks two slices of raisin toast in the beaten up looking toaster oven, "I stopped for coffee on my way to work. I would've picked you up something."

"It's not so bad," I cringe at the sight of it in my cup, "How was your weekend?"

"Good," She leans her curved hips against the counter, "Simon worked Saturday, so my neighbor and I got our nails done and then Simon and I sort of stayed in bed all day Sunday."

"Oh...that sounds nice." I faintly smile.

"What did you do?" She asks, turning around at the sound of the timer on the toaster oven.

"Um...Jolyon and I stayed home pretty much the entire weekend, except when we had dinner with my parent's last night," I relay blandly, "I found out our cat likes to go for walks, so..."

"Like a dog?" She chuckles, as she spreads a thin layer of butter on each toast.

"Uh, yeah, so...that was my weekend." I swirl around my cesspool. "I walked a cat."

Lourdes smiles at me and cackles. "Aw, that sounds sweet."

"It wasn't," I grin back, "He kept trying to scale the trees and hissed at all the dogs that walked by. He found a dead mouse and tried to carry it home with us, then Jolyon cried that I was mean for not letting him."

She laughs. "Well, I mean it just seems so...I don't know, cute."

"Cute?"

"Yeah, you know? Taking a walk with your cat and son on a nice day...just sounds like something I wouldn't mind doing. Maybe a dog instead of a cat, but still."

I smirk. "Yeah, sure."

"And you had dinner with your parents? That sounds good, too." Lourdes adds.

"Don't you have dinner with yours?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Yeah, but not very often," She takes a bite of her toast, "My folks aren't exactly wild about Simon, so there's always some tension about that."

"Oh," I nod, sipping some of the horrid liquid, "Well, things aren't always the best with my parents, either."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, like last night. My mom tried to set me up with some guy I don't really know and I'm sure you know how that goes."

Lourdes smiles down at her toast. "Yeah," She scoffs, "So, are you going to?"

"Going to what?"

"Going to go out with the guy she wanted to set you up with."

"Oh," I huff with an eye roll, "No. I'm not really into that at the moment."

"It's a free dinner," She jokes, "And maybe something extra, if he's somewhat decent."

I guffaw lightly. "Yeah, well, that might be true, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up, nor do I want to encourage my mom's behavior."

"What about that one guy? Is he single?"

"What guy?" I ask, puzzled.

"That blondie that you brought over to our picnic like two weeks ago," Lourdes clarifies, "He seemed nice."

"Who seemed nice?" Negan strolls into the breakroom, interrupting our conversation. "Surely you aren't talking about yours truly, since I am anything but fuckin' nice," He looks over his shoulder at Lourdes and winks, "'Cause that's how you like it."

Lourdes groans, rolling her eyes at him. "I have to go, before I lose my appetite. See you later, Pippa."

"See ya." I say back to her, as she exits.

"Whoever fucking makes this coffee should be fucking fired," Negan jeers, "Because if they can't make a simple fuckin' pot of coffee, then they sure as shit can't do anything else with diligence."

Diane, who's been sitting at one of the tables this entire time, abruptly scoots back her chair. Both Negan and I look over and she gives him daggers, before huffing out of the room, offended. Negan then looks at me and smiles, not at all abashed.

"I think you pissed her off," I say, going over to the trashcan, "Maybe you should think before you speak."

"I did," He claims, stirring a wooden stirrer around in his cup, "I knew she was the one that made the coffee."

"Then why did you say that?"

"'Cause I like pissing her off." Negan grins, taking a swig of the coffee and then immediately scrunching his face. "Jesus, what the unholy fuck is this sludge? She's trying to fuckin' poison the hell out of us."

I laugh, quietly, just in case she's still close. "It is pretty shitty."

We both toss our cups at the same time. "So, who was Ms. Alvarado talking about?"

"What?"

"Right before I walked in, she said 'he seemed nice.' Who?"

I shrug. "Just some guy I know that she met the other day at the beach."

Negan scoffs, humored. "You and Lourdes went to the beach together?"

"Yeah, she invited me." I walk out the door and he follows.

"So, what? She's interested in this guy you know?"

"Hey, you know something?" I tilt my head towards him. "There is actually no possible way that it's any of your business."

He chuckles. "Is that a yes, or a no?"

"She's in a relationship," I inform him of the obvious, "And from what I gather, she seems to be happy with him."

"Yeah, well, Lourdes doesn't really ever commit to commitment."

"Are you the pot calling the kettle black?" I arch my brow at him.

"So, he is someone you're screwing then?" Negan asks, choosing not to acknowledge my question. "Or are planning on screwing?"

"No!" I snap, blushing a little, "He's just someone I went to highschool with that happen to be on the same beach as us." I open the door to my classroom door and shut it behind me.

 **...**

So despite being totally terrified by the shark documentary, Jolyon asks if he can watch it again today after I picked him up from Happy Hands. But, I put in an old Little Bear video that I brought from home instead. I just got him back to sleeping in his own bed and squashed his fear of thinking that sharks can swim up from the toilet and bathtub, so I am not making that mistake again.

We both eat from the box of fish crackers I brought, one of us watches a cartoon, while the other reads through eleventh grade essays. About an hour in, there comes a knock on the glass window of the door and then it opens. It's a man I haven't seen before. He looks to be in forties and kind of poindexterish.

"Um, hello." He awkwardly greets.

"Hello," I greet back, just as uncertain, "Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, I hope so," The man shyly steps in a little more, "I'm Lara's husband, Peter."

I think for a minute, before epiphany. "Oh, Mrs. Calder!"

"Yes," He nods, "Do you...do you know where she might be? Her car's been having troubles and so I've been driving her to and from work, until we get it back from the mechanic's. I'm a little early, but she changed classrooms this year and I can't seem to remember her room number and the main office is closed. I tried to call her a few time, but she's not picking up."

A knot ties itself in my stomach. "Um, I'm not sure, either, but I could help you look." I smile to hide my uneasiness, before glancing at Jolyon. "Hey, Jol? We're gonna help this man find his wife, okay?"

"Aw!" Jolyon whines in his desk. "Mommy, I want to stay here and watch Little Bear!"

"Jolyon, you can watch it after we get back."

"No, Mommy!" He groans, tossing one of his crayons.

"Jolyon, that is not-"

"You know what?" Mr. Calder says, "It's alright, I can look for her myself."

I turn around. "Well, she might be someplace you need keys, like the...copy room," I lie. He doesn't fucking know where we make copies, or if it's in a locked area.

"Oh."

"...If you wouldn't mind, I could go seek her out and you could wait here with my brat."

"Hey!" Jolyon furrows his eyes at me. "You don't call names, Mom!"

"I'm sorry, but that's what you're acting like right now." I glance back to the nerdy husband standing before me. "He won't give you trouble, I swear."

"Uh...okay, sure," The man smiles and nods his head, "I'll wait here."

"Jolyon, I'll be right back," I tell him, "you behave yourself."

I walk down the hall, cursing under my breath. I have a burning feeling that the ninth grade history teacher is with the head of the physical education department, getting physical. I first go to the classroom I know I've seen her in, hoping for that poor guy's sake that she's in there grading and just has her phone silent. However, the room's empty, much to my dismay. There was football practice today, but I know it got over twenty minutes ago.

Shit, this means that I'm about to get a taste of deja vu. I should've just stayed out of this and let that guy find his wife and the coach together. Maybe that dweeb's more than meets the eye and would've given Negan what he deserves, but since I highly doubt it, I press on towards his office. Because it's after school, the halls are silent and so it's easy to make out what sounds like exactly what I feared was going on.

I turn down the hall of the locker rooms and the moaning becomes less faint. My breathing picks up as I softly tread further, not being able to see into the office, because the blinds are drawn. I stop at the door and can hear only one person moaning. It's husky and deep, mixed with some minor chuckling, so I know it has to be Negan. I steady my breath, then put my fist up to the door and knock three firm times.

The inside is silent. "What was that?" I finally hear a woman's voice.

"Nothing, keep going," Negan tells her quietly, "I'm almost there."

I scoff, before knocking again. "Coach?"

"Fuck!" Lara sharply whispers.

Negan shushes her. "Yes?"

I roll my eyes at his casual, nothing-to-hide tone. "I was wondering, if you knew where Mrs. Calder is. Her husband is looking for her."

I hear Lara curse again and then some movement. "I haven't seen her," Negan chuckles, "But if I do, I'll pass it along."

"Okay, thank you." I reply, before stalking back to my classroom.

I find Mr. Calder standing where I left him and Jolyon could practically be none the wiser that I even left, since his eyes are glued to the TV. I tell Mr. Calder that his wife will be a minute, sitting back down at my desk and not uttering another word, except "no problem" when he thanks me. Lara makes an appearance not ten minutes later, put together and not at all looking like she was just blowing Negan from under his desk.

When the two leave, I immediately gather up my shit and Jolyon and I head out. I don't want to talk to Negan, right now. I can't even think about looking at the unapologetic grin of his. I need to go home.

 **...**

Camden doesn't have a lot of chain stores. The only one's I can think of are like three fast food restaurants and then the grocery store. Aside from that, you have to travel out if you want to go to the mall, or anyplace with stores that everyone knows. This being said, I have to buy all my makeup at the pharmacy, which is sometimes a good deal and other times a marked up pain in the ass.

"Mommy, smell this one." Jolyon holds up a bottle of shampoo that's got the top of the lid open.

I sigh, before bending down to sniff the fruity fragrance. "That's nice, Jolyon, but what did I say about opening the bottles?"

"Not to."

"So then why have you opened one?"

"I didn't." Jolyon claims, holding it up to his nose to take a deep whiff.

"Well, you obviously have, haven't you?" I take the shampoo and close the cap, placing it back on the shelf. "You need to wait for me."

"But I need to pick one."

"Yeah, babe, but you always hold the bottles too hard and make a mess."

"Nuh-uh." Jolyon protests.

"Yes, you do, so stop."

I scan the rows of lipstick, contemplating what shade to get. Bolder colors tend to go well with my skin tone, but I sometimes like a more neutral shade. I'm really just trying to think about whether or not a bright lip would be too much for the particular setting and/or send the wrong signal. Maybe I should cancel until I figure it out.

"Hi." A familiar voice says on my right.

I look over and find Sherry smiling at me. "Hi."

"How are you?" She inquires, slinging her hand basket over to the crook of her elbow.

"I'm alright," I answer, tempted to survey the area for signs of Dwight, "Yourself?"

"Good," Sherry looks over at the makeup, "I'm just picking up a few things for my anniversary party on Sunday."

"Oh," I nod, returning to the lipsticks.

"Do you wear lipstick a lot?" She asks after a second.

"Um, yeah, sometimes."

"I never really have the patience for anything other than lip gloss," Sherry chuckles, "But I want to maybe try something a little more sophisticated."

I take up a mauve pink lipstick. "You should try this one. It's a nice color."

Sherry looks at it from the clear tube. "Huh, this is pretty." After another moment's thought, she puts it in the basket. "Thanks."

"Sure."

"Are you just restocking some faithfuls, or...?"

"Um, I'm actually here to get some more kids shampoo for Jolyon," I check to make sure he's still with me, "but it's right here and I have a...sort of a date Friday night and I was considering maybe getting a new lipstick."

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" Sherry smiles.

"Yeah." I grin half-heartedly. After I pick up some shampoo, letting Jolyon smell the bottles, I go to the cashier and Sherry stands behind me after leaving another aisle.

"Hey, you know I lost your number." She lets me know.

I turn halfway to look at her. "Oh, you did?"

"Yeah, I think it must have fallen out of my purse when I looking for my sunglasses, or something."

"Oh." I chuckle flatly, not willing to offer it up again, because of what happened last time.

"I was gonna call you to invite you over, but I couldn't, because I lost it," She digs through her purse, "But how about you come over this Sunday?" Sherry produces a rectangle of paper and hands it to me. "You could come to our party."

"Oh, um..." I look down at the invitation.

"It's nothing big, just like a little barbeque."

"I'll...I'll see if I can make it." I tell her with a meek smile.

"Okay, great!" Sherry beams, "Hope to see you then."

"Yeah."

Jolyon and I exit with our bag of sundries and as we're walking to our car, I smell smoke. I glance over to the left and see him there, sitting in his truck with the window rolled down and his arm hanging outside with a cigarette between two fingers. I turn my head to become obscure, walking at an even quicker pace.

 **...**

Friday night rolls around the corner and I want so badly to call and cancel, but something in me is fighting it down. I called my mom the other night and asked about Cathy's son. It was a small inquiry, but it was enough. We conveniently ran into Cathy and her son, Marcus three days later. I should've known when she asked me to go with her to the store. Before I knew what hit me; Marcus and I exchanged numbers and made plans to go to dinner.

Mom and Dad were happy to take Jolyon for the night, since the restaurant he's taking me to is out of town and I might not get back until later. Marcus seems really friendly and is quite the looker, so I figured I'd give it a shot. If I'm being entirely honest, I'm not really all that interested in hitting it off with him. I stand by what I said earlier; I'm not interested in finding a man and can take care of myself and my son solo. But...it has been awhile since I've done the deed and I've had some really strong stirrings lately. So, I spent two hours getting ready and put on the nice panties and bra in the hopes of getting lucky.

Marcus took me to a nice steak house. The inside's really swanky and, as far as I'm concerned, it's an ideal place to get wined and dined. Marcus asks me the usual first date questions and I politely answer them without trying to sound sarcastic, or go too far into detail. I'm trying to get laid, not pick out linens with the guy.

"Do you like your job?" He asks as we sit down to our table.

"Yeah, I do," I kindly smile, "I get paid to talk about something that I love everyday. How many people can say that?"

"Sports announcers."

I force a chuckle at the dumb joke. "Do you like your job as a…" Shit, what did he say he did again? "A realtor?"

"I do," He nods and we both thank the waiter who brought us some water and two menus, before he continues, "It's a really rewarding job to help people find the right homes to create their lives in."

"I bet." I sip some of my water, stifling an eye roll.

"It's one of those jobs that almost feels charitable, you know? Like I'm taking time out of my day to help provide shelter for people."

"Yeah? Do you donate the commission to charity?" I laugh, but he only chuckles out of politeness.

Why the fuck did I say something that I thought was fucking rude when it was said to me? I need to get it to together.

I clear my throat. "But, yeah, I see what you mean by how noble a profession selling houses is." Fuck, I hope that didn't sound too ironic.

"It is." Marcus looks down at the menu with a flattered smile. This might be easier than I thought.

The waiter comes by. "Are you ready to order?"

"Uh, yeah," I close my menu, "I'll have the steak, medium rare, with the asparagus and rustic mash potatoes."

"Excellent choice and you, sir?" The waiter looks over at Marcus.

"I'll have the chicken parm, please." He tells the waiter.

"Alright, I will get that started for you." The waiter smiles and walks off.

"So, do you like music?" Marcus inquires, stupidly.

"No, I hate music," I smile and then see that it went over his head, "I'm kidding, sorry, I'm sort of nervous." Not really, but I'm still trying to hook the sucker.

"Oh," He chuckles, "That's alright. You have a son, so I assumed you might be rusty."

Rule of thumb; you should probably never call your date rusty. Still, I begrudgingly laugh. "Yeah, yeah...sure."

"So, my mom told me you lived in Texas for awhile."

"Yeah, I moved there for college and I-" I trail off as I see a couple being seated four tables behind Marcus. The tall figure of man looks oddly familiar. As he sits down, I know my eyes aren't deceiving me. It's fucking Negan. The woman he's with sits with her back facing me and I didn't get a good look at her.

"And you...?"

I blink back to my date. "I...I really liked Austin, so I ended up staying up until recently."

My eyes dart back to the table where Negan's sitting and I'm a little embarrassed when our eyes meet. Fuck, I've been spotted. Negan smirks at me, before turning his gaze and smile back to the person he came with, saying some inaudible.

"What was your favorite thing about Austin?" Marcus questions.

I look at him and feign a smile. "Um...the food, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't know, I just liked it there." I spy Negan getting up from the table and walking over to the bar on the left side of the room.

"Have you ever been to Houston? I went there once for a wedding."

My smile fades a little. "Yeah, I've been to Houston." I push back my chair. "Hey, I think you have to go up to the bar to order drinks. Do you want something?"

"No, I don't drink," He starts to stand, "but I can get your drink for you."

"No, it's okay. I don't know what I want yet, so I'll go."

"Alright, just don't let them trick you into getting top shelf," Marcus chuckles, "It all tastes the same."

I chuckle flatly, before going over to the bar. I approach, almost on the opposite end of Negan. "Hi, can I get a martini, wet and dirty, please?"

"Coming up." The bartender nods.

"Thank you." I sigh, looking down at the black marble counter, where I can sort of make out my reflection.

"Fancy meeting you here."

I turn my head towards Negan. "Yeah, I'm starting to think about filing a restraining order."

He chuckles under his breath. "You look lovely tonight."

"I know."

"Don't have such fuckin' low self-esteem there, darlin'."

"I spent two hours getting ready," I look at myself from the mirror behind the liquor shelves, "I didn't spend all that time and effort to be modest."

Negan snickers, looking at my reflection. "Well, it fuckin' paid off."

"Thanks."

"Who's the handsome fella?"

"A handsome fella," I answer blandly, "and not much else."

"So, what? You lookin' to hit it and quit it?"

I scoff. "What makes you think I have sex in mind?"

"All that time and effort," He grins, "Especially that bright ass lipstick you fuckin' painted your pout with."

"I rock a scarlet lip," I shrug casually, "It's not sex motivated."

"Steak dinner and bold lipstick?" Negan chuckles at his dirty mind. "That guy's expecting to at least get oral."

"Go to hell." I snicker.

"And the nice dress and fuck me pumps?"

I look down at my little black dress and heels. "This is a nice restaurant."

"Right," Negan scoffs with a grin, "Hope that wet and dirty martini's good."

"Okay, what about you, smart ass?" I give him a look over. "You mean to tell me you're all dolled up in a nice suit for no reason?"

"No, siree," He smirks, "I fully intend on unloading tonight."

"Who's the unlucky lady? I don't think I've seen her at work, so she must be from the middle school, or maybe the elementary school."

Negan smiles at me, amused. The bartender puts a glass in front of Negan and pours some scotch in. "Thanks."

"I hope she doesn't have a husband," I add as he takes a drink, "Because I feel bad for the poor bastard."

He lets out a groaned 'ah' at the strong drink. "I am that poor bastard, thank you very much."

I knit my brows and my eyes flicker to the woman sitting over at the table alone, waiting. "That's your wife?"

"Yep," Negan smiles proudly, "Want to come on over and meet her? Maybe let her know what a poor bastard I am for being married to her?"

The bartender gives Negan a martini. He then brings me mine, which is apparently the same as what Negan's wife ordered, because I watched him make them side by side.

"Thank you," I say.

"Well?" Negan raises his brows.

"I should get back to my date." I walk back over to my table.

Marcus is so fucking drab. All he's talked about since I sat back down is realtor crap. You hear a lot about only children being narcissists, but goddamn. The night started off okay, but now I just keep telling myself that I really want this. The sex, not Marcus himself, oh god no. He'll ask me a question and then somehow have a realtor story that ties in. He also made a joking-but-not-really comment about kids being needy little parasites. I'm not planning on seeing him again, but why the hell would he say something like that to someone he knows has a kid?

The waiter brings the check and I offer to split the bill, but Marcus insists on paying, so I go the bathroom. I have to pass Negan and his wife to get there, but I just ignore his eyes as I do. I text my mom to let her know that I'll be by early in the morning to pick up Jolyon. When I get back to the table, I notice that Marcus didn't put down a tip.

"Ready to go?" He smiles, sticking his wallet back in his pocket.

"Uh, okay." I look away from the bill and back over at Negan who winks, as I exit the restaurant.

When we hit the road, I'm quiet and a little pissed. Maybe it's my experience as a waitress, but people who are either rude to people in the service industry, or are lousy tippers are such boner killers. I feel kind of deflated right now. It could have also been his boringness and that Negan put a damper on things by reading my intentions, then occasionally grinning over at me from his table.

"Are you alright?" Marcus asks after a while.

"Fine," I curtly reply, "Would you mind pulling over?"'

"Sure." He pulls over to the side of the road.

I step out and rifle through my purse for my lighter and cigarettes. I light one and smoke in the chilly dark. Marcus gets out of the car and the crickets stop chirping in the woods.

"Um, so..." He sticks his hands in his pants pockets.

"So?" I take a drag from my cigarette.

"I should take you back to your place, right?"

I glance at his friendly smile. "Yeah, I'm pretty tried, so that'd be great," I release smoke from my faded scarlet lips, "I just want to go to bed."

"Okay." He says, smirking to himself like he's sealed the deal.

"Oh, I meant alone."

"...What?"

"I had a swell time, Marcus," I smile gently, "Thank you for dinner, but I think I'm gonna call it a night."

"Oh," Marcus seems confused, "So..."

"So, when you drop me off at my place, you're not coming inside."

Marcus scoffs. "I don't understand. You ordered the steak and a pricey drink."

I look at him indifferently. "It was a steakhouse, so yeah; I ordered a steak. Did you think I was going to have sex with you, because you took me to a fancy restaurant?"

"No, it's the polite thing to do if you order an expensive meal."

I scoff, "The first thing you should know is that I'm not fucking polite. Secondly, I don't owe you a fucking thing, because you bought me dinner, which I offered to chip in for." I put my cigarette up to my lips. "Maybe if I did, the waiter would've gotten a tip."

"Really? This is about me not leaving a tip?"

"Among other things."

"So, you're not gonna put out?"

"No!" I shout at him. "You turned an ocean into a desert in nothing flat, buddy, so it's not happening."

"For not leaving a fucking tip?" Marcus yells.

"That and I think you're a jackass with all that egotistical realtor smoke you were trying to blow up my ass."

"Fuck you, you bitch."

"Nice," I scoff.

"Bit of advice," Marcus gets back into his car, "Maybe don't dress like that, or order expensive food, it you aren't gonna put out."

"Maybe don't have read too much into a good looking girl and steak, scumbag." I chuckle as I put out my cigarette on the ground, "There's your advice."

"Go fuck yourself!" Marcus shuts his car door and then starts to drive off.

"Hey!" I scream at him as he speeds off. I can't believe he just did that. I look around the stark side of the road. No, no, no...he's not really gonna leave me here, right? His taillights fade away the further he goes until they're out of sight. I fish out my phone from my purse and try to call my dad, but there's no signal on this fucking road. I take another look around. "You've got to be fucking me."


	8. Chapter 8

The night has a subtle warmth that keeps getting forgotten every time the chilling breeze sweeps across my skin. The road back to Camden is long and surrounded by woods. It'll take me hours to get back home. My feet are killing me, so I took off my pumps and am now walking barefoot; trying not to step on pebbles and glass. Every few minutes, I check my phone for bars, but no such luck. This is un-fucking-believable. That dick actually left me on the side of the fucking road!

I told my mom this would happen. Well, not this part exactly, but I fucking told her that these mama's boys are always bad news. I don't know how long I've been walking, or how far. There was a sign maybe a mile back that said Camden was twenty-five miles, so I'm fucked.

The sound of a car coming down the road makes me turn around. I know it's super dangerous to hitchhike, but I need to at least get to a gas station, so I can call my dad. Besides, I have pepper spray. I stick my thumb out. Three cars already passed me and I'm almost tempted to put my leg out for a ride. The truck seems like it's slowing down.

"Come on," I cajole under my breath, "Stop."

The truck comes to a halt a few feet in front of me and its headlights cause me to shield my eyes. I hear the window roll down. "Pippa?"

I move my hand, squinting at the familiar voice past the bright light and am both mortified and relieved to see his face. "Dwight?"

"Are you alright?" He asks from the cab.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I need a ride."

Dwight nods and waves me over. "Get in."

I hurry over to the passenger's side, open the door, and climb up inside the cab. "Thank you so much," I exhale, putting my hands to the warmth of the heater, "I've been trying to flag people down for awhile, but no one was stopping."

"What are you doing out here?" He inspects me in utter bewilderment and concern.

"It's so stupid," I shake my head, as I pull the seatbelt across me, "I went on this date with a guy my mom set me up with, and we pulled over so I could smoke, and we got into an argument."

"And he left you on the fucking side of the road?" Dwight scoffs, pulling back onto the road.

"Yep, what a winner, right?" I look over at my phone for a signal. "My mom is so getting an earful tomorrow morning."

"What was the argument about?"

I glance over at him. "What?"

"You said you got into an argument," He looks at me as well, "What about?"

"Oh," I nod, turning my attention forward, "Great expectations make for even greater disappointments."

"...Oh."

"So, are you going home?"

"Well, yeah, but first I gotta drop off the truck."

I nod again. "Okay. Does your phone have any bars?"

"No, the woods are too thick through here. Why?"

"Well, I figured I could call my dad and he could meet us at wherever you're dropping the truck off," I explain.

Dwight briefly glances at me. "I could just drive you home, if you want."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"No, not at all." He answers.

I think for a moment, before nodding my head. "Okay, thanks."

The radio clock reads eleven-ten at night and I definitely feel it. The buzz I had from my martini earlier is gone and now I'm just tired.

"Want some water?" D offers a canteen to me and I take it.

"Thanks." I put my lips up to the spout and drink some water. I suddenly become aware of two little yellow sticky notes on the glove compartment. I squint in the dark to read the cursive "Call your wife" and "I love you -Honey" that are scrawled onto the notes.

We're both fairly quiet on the way to D's work, probably because we're both tired. When we get there, I trail him to the dimly lit office, where he turns in some papers and the keys to the truck. The man in the office looks me over and then peers up at Dwight, before minding his own business and cutting a check. We then go to where Dwight's truck is parked in the back of the yard. I get into the car and find four more yellow sticky notes placed on the dashboard and glove compartment, all with the same cursive handwriting.

"Um, do you like sticky notes, Dwight?"

He snickers through his nose as he starts the car. "Sherry gives me those, so I'll remember certain things."

"Hm," I nod, then notice a picture of the two under a clip on his sun visor. His stomach grumbles and I smile. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm probably gonna get something to eat after I drop you off."

"Well, Lorelei's is on the way there," I report, "I don't mind stopping, if you want to eat something now."

"You're probably tired," He replies, "I can wait."

"It's alright," I shrug my shoulders, "After the night I've had, I could use some pie."

Dwight looks at me, as if in thought, before returning his eyes to the road. "Alright."

 **...**

The two of us sit across from each other in a booth at Lorelei's, laughing at the stupid shit Marcus had said on our date. The diner's it's usual empty self, except for the two of us. The waitress, Mindy, and Louis the night cook are pretty much background noise, along with the jukebox.

"I mean, can you believe that?" I cackle, "He actually said selling houses was charitable!"

"Yeah, I'm sure charity pays his bills." D retorts, making me laugh more.

"What's worse is that a guy I work with was also at the restaurant and I know he'll ask about it Monday, so I'm gonna have to lie and say that the date went great."

"Why would you have to lie?" Dwight asks, amused.

"To spare myself the mocking ridicule and humiliation." We both laugh. When my laughter dies down, I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't believe I did that."

"Did what?"

I stare down at my BLT. "Went on a blind date...hell, a date in general."

He takes a sip from his coffee. "You don't usually?"

"Nope," I chuckle slightly, "I haven't been on a date in...a really long time."

"What about your kid's father?" D innocently inquires.

I hold onto my already waning smile. "Um, that's sort of a complicated situation."

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay." I pick up half of my sandwich and bite one of the edges.

"You didn't see anyone before him?"

I shrug, "Sure, but nothing ever held." I want to change the subject immediately. "So, I ran into Sherry, Tuesday at the pharmacy."

Dwight nods, before eating a fry from his plate. "Yeah, she told me she invited you to our house on Sunday."

"For your anniversary party."

"Yeah."

I sit back against the cushioned backrest. "Is your mom gonna be there?"

"Yeah, she's coming," His eyes shyly pick up to meet mine, "So, you're thinking about coming?"

"I don't know," I examine the sandwich half in my hand, "I'd like to see your mom, but I won't if you-"

"You should come." Dwight states, nonchalantly.

My eyes travel back to his, which seem more sure than a second ago. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, why not?" He asks.

I smile and nod. "Okay, I'll try to make it."

"Cool."

After we leave the diner, I direct Dwight to my house. He doesn't need much direction, since he pretty much knows where to go. The town being what it is, most people know how to navigate around without GPS. Plus, him and his mom use to live not far from where my house is, before moving right next door to Caroline's parents.

From what Dwight told me when we were kids, his mom got pregnant with him when she was only fifteen and married his father, who was then seventeen, soon afterwards. Dwight's grandparents apparently hated this guy the moment they met him, but didn't protest when he offered to marry their daughter after he got her pregnant. However, he left right before Dwight's first birthday and so Caroline moved herself and her son back home, until she got a job at the bank and saved up to rent, and eventually buy, the house next to her folks at eighteen.

Dwight said that he didn't really remember his dad much and for a few years, he thought a guy that Caroline had been seeing was his dad. I guess, the guy moved in and was in a relationship with Caroline until Dwight was about five. D said that he remembered being confused and deeply upset that this man, who he thought was his father, had just up and left one day before Dwight had gotten home from school. He also told me that his actual dad showed up every so often, but eventually stopped all contact. I never met him, obviously, but I always remember Dwight's grandpa being sort of the surrogate father figure and I know Dwight adored him.

He pulls up to my home that's completely dark, except for the porch light. "Here you are," He rasps.

"Yep," I say, unbuckling my seatbelt, "Thanks again, D. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

"You don't know what a life saver you are. Maybe quite literally," I reach up to touch the lights, "I just need to turn these on for a second to fish my keys out."

"Okay," He nods, looking out through his window at my house.

"Alright," I yawn, finding my keys, "I guess I'll see you later."

D turns his head towards me. "Yeah."

"Maybe Sunday." I grin.

"Okay, that'd be good."

I avert my gaze and open the door to his truck, getting out. "Goodnight," I wish him, before closing the door.

 **...**

"I cannot believe Marcus would do something like that!" Mom gasps, appalled by my tales of the night.

"Well, believe it, lady, because he most certainly fucking did." I report, drinking some coffee she poured me.

She puts her hand up to her mouth. "I am so sorry, Pippa. I had no clue; he seemed like such a nice young man."

"Apparently, only girls who put out don't get stranded," I bitterly huff, "I must have missed that page in Dating 101."

"Oh!" Mom makes a sound of disgust. "What an awful person! How did you get home?"

"Dwight Rollins," I answer, "He happened to be driving by and stopped."

"Well, thank God for Dwight."

I lift my mug up to my mouth. "Amen."

"The important thing is; you got home safe and sound." Mom continues as she pulls open the sliding glass door. "Honey! Bring Jolyon in, please!"

"How was he last night?" I ask.

"Wonderful," Mom informs me, "As always."

"Right." I chuckle, "Just wait until the full moon."

"Mommy!" Jolyon comes running in from the backyard.

"Hey, baby!" I pick him up into a hug. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah!" He nods.

The four of us head to the door, saying our goodbyes. "Oh, I almost forgot," I turn to my parents, "Are you doing anything tomorrow between two and six?"

"No, why?" Dad furrows his brows in question.

"Um, well...I got invited to this little get together and I said I would try to make it," I bite the corner of my lip, "But you two just had Jolyon, so I don't want to trouble you again."

"Oh, please," Mom rolls her eyes and then smiles at Jolyon, "Jolyon is not trouble."

"...Are you sure?"

"Sure, pipsqueak," Dad tucks his hands in his pants pockets, "We can watch him."

"Okay, great, thanks," I open the front door, "I probably won't stay for the whole thing."

 **...**

I park my car behind another that I suspect is here for the same reason. I get out and slowly approach the buttercream yellow house that has the number that's on the invitation. Shit, I can't be in the wrong place. Their house is the only one for a quarter mile. That and Dwight's truck is parked out front.

I purposely arrived fifteen minutes after two, so I wouldn't be the first person here. I spent all of yesterday and this morning, warring with myself about coming. By twelve, my head came to a dead conclusion that there is neither any pros to coming to this barbeque, nor are there any rational cons. It's just mingling with strangers, which for some odd reason, I'm better at than I am at spending the holidays with my extended family.

I didn't know what to wear, so I just put on some shorts and a blouse. I also brought some tulips, because neither of them specified if I should bring anything and I didn't want to be the jackass that shows up empty-handed. I ring the doorbell and can feel my heart pounding as I wait for someone to answer.

The door opens and it's Caroline. "Hello!"

"Hey," A smile spreads across my face, "How are you?"

"I'm great, honey," She hugs me and welcomes me in, "How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you." When she closes the door, I notice the house is vacant of people and I don't hear any chatter. "Am I early?"

"A little bit, but it's no big deal." Caroline says.

"Oh, I thought the party was at two?"

"Two-thirty." She corrects.

I mouth an 'oh' and nod. Fuck!

"Caroline, who's at the door?" Sherry comes out of a hall with curlers in her hair. "Oh, hey!"

"Hi," I awkwardly smile, before extending the tulips, "I got you these."

"Oh, how beautiful," She holds the bouquet in her arms like a baby, "Thank you so much!"

"I'm sorry if I'm early, I thought the invitation said two o'clock."

"Don't worry about it; it's fine!" Sherry smiles pleasantly, before turning her head towards the hall she just came from. "Dwight!"

"Yeah?" He calls out.

"We have guests and you're ready, so could you come out here?" She asks, making sure her hair's still in the curlers.

Dwight emerges. "Oh, hey."

"Hi." I smile.

Sherry goes back down the hall. "I'll be ready in like two minutes."

I observe the parts of the small house that I can see by the front door. I notice a sticky note on this shelf thing by the door that reminds Dwight, I assume, to not forget his keys. Above that are some framed photos of them and others. "Your home is lovely."

"Thanks."

"Pippa, do want something to drink?" Caroline pokes her head out from what I'm guessing is the kitchen. "Some wine, or how about a beer?"

"Please," I smile brightly.

Dwight looks back at his mom. "You know, you can just, um..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, but he motions for me to follow and so we go into the kitchen. That's when I see more yellow sticky note reminders. Two or three rest on the fridge, alongside a calendar with dates circled in red ink and something written in the middles. There's even one taped to a cupboard that reads; "feed goldfish" right above a round glass bowl that houses two fish.

"Here you go, honey," Caroline hands me a bottle of beer with the top already popped off.

"Thank you." I accept it and take a sip.

"You look beautiful. Doesn't she look beautiful?" She asks Dwight.

"Uh, yeah." Dwight answers, clearing his throat. We make eye contact very briefly.

"Sweetheart, have you met Pippa's son?"

Dwight pulls out a chair and sits at the table. "Yeah, I have."

"Isn't he adorable?" His mother smiles at me, "I'm not surprised, though. You have always been such a beauty yourself, it's no shocker that you should have gorgeous babies."

My cheeks hurt from smiling so greatly at her complimenting. "You really know how to take the humble right out of a girl."

Caroline laughs, before taking a drink from her wine glass. She nods over at Dwight. "I keep telling this one and that one in there that they could have beautiful kids, if only they'd try." Dwight smiles and I chuckle softly. "So, Dwight tells me he found you on the side of the road Friday night."

"Yeah, what happened?" Sherry comes into the kitchen with her hair and makeup done. She's even wearing the lipstick I suggested.

"Bad date." I vaguely explain, giving a smile.

"What a horrible thing to have-" Sherry's cut off by the doorbell ringing, "Oh, I'll get that."

The rest of the guests file in within an hour and are mostly friendly. The party was moved to the back yard, so it wouldn't be crowded in the house. Tina, Sherry's sister, chatted with me for a good while after arriving. She seems nice; not disingenuous like her sister.

Sherry occasionally makes her rounds and whenever she gets to me, she appears to be hospitable towards me. I have to admit, it's kind of hard to read her. I can't tell if she's being sincere, or facetious. Dwight said she wouldn't invite me over and then she hands me a spare invitation and seems glad that I came. What the fuck is her deal? Did she really lose my number by accident, or did she just toss it?

Dwight comes up every now and then, but doesn't linger too long. I mostly just stick to talking to Caroline. "I would call his mother and let her know just what kind of boy she has for a son," Caroline tells me, after I give her the lowdown on what happened the other night.

"I'd rather just forget about it," I laugh, tipping back my third beer, "I'm sure my mom will, though, since she knows Cathy so well."

"Well, I hope she does!" She replies, "That's so dangerous to leave someone on the side of the road like that. At night, no less."

"Yeah, I know." I agree.

There's a clinking sound coming from behind us, so we both turn around to see Sherry tapping a fork against a wine glass. "If I could just everyone's attention for a moment, I'd like to say a few words." Everyone focuses on Sherry, who motions for Dwight to come stand beside her.

"I know a lot of people said that we shouldn't be celebrating thirteen years, because thirteen is an unlucky number," A few people chuckle, "But I think that so long as you still love the person you're with as each year goes by, then why shouldn't you celebrate that?" A light round clapping commences, which prompts me to do the same. "Sometimes I can't believe how lucky am I to have someone as caring and amazing as Dwight. He has some pretty awesome integrity and is such a good-hearted person that I love and admire. And he always puts my needs before his own, even after we argue. He's really too good for me and I don't ever know how I deserve him. Anyway, before I start to cry," She fans her eyes, "I just want to say that I love you, Dwight and I'm happy that I'm yours and your mine. Happy anniversary, baby, and here's to many more."

Everyone claps and Dwight smiles before kissing Sherry tenderly on the lips. Caroline goes over and snaps a picture of the happy couple. I keep my smile up, before tipping my beer back.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" Tina says, coming from god knows where.

"Yeah, they are," I tersely admit, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall and first door the your left."

"Thanks."

I go into the little bathroom that smells like rosy soap and sit down on the closed toilet. I breathe and look around the earthy pink bathroom. Another note is glued to the medicine cabinet, urging him to put the toilet seat down. I wash my hands with a little round soap that smells like a grandma and dry them off with a plush hand towel.

When I enter the hall again, I'm confronted with a wall of pictures. I glance at all the snapshots of their life and how every photograph depicts them as being blissfully together. My eyes halt as they capture one picture in particular. Dwight and Sherry are standing at the altar, which seems to be a lattice arch in someone's backyard. Dwight's hair was shorter but it still shines as the sun touches it. I use to make fun that he looked like he had a halo whenever light would bounce off his straw colored hair.

"Hey."

I turn my head. Speak of the angel. "Hi," I point to the picture and smile, "Look how young you were."

Dwight looks over at the picture of his wedding day. "Yeah."

"It's weird," I chuckle, melancholy, "That you is still so vivid in my head like it was only yesterday."

He looks over at me and smiles. "That's because you're looking at a picture."

"Not always." I note under my breath, not fully aware that I said that out loud. I glance at Dwight and I suddenly feel jaded. "I think I'm gonna head out."

"How come?" He asks.

"I'm tired and I promised Jolyon we would order a pizza and watch a movie tonight."

"Okay," Dwight nods, "I'll walk you out."

"You don't have to," I smile, "It's your party, so you should be with the guests that aren't dipping out early."

"Sher's got it."

"Got what?" She asks, coming up from the kitchen.

"Thank you for having me," I smile at her, "But I'm gonna head home."

"Already?" Sherry knits her brows, seemingly disappointed.

"Afraid so."

"Well, let me cut you some cake to take home to your son."

"Okay." I nod and she disappears. I look back at Dwight. "Congratulations on your anniversary."

"Thanks."

"Tell your mom I said it was great seeing her."

"Yeah, sure," He scratches the back of his head, "Tell your folks I said hey."

"Okay," I glance down at my sandaled feet, "I'm happy for you, Dwight."

"...Pippa, I-"

"Here you go," Sherry comes back with a paper plate with two slices of cake and cellophane tarped over it. "Thank you for coming! We really should get together."

"Sure." I grin nicely.

"Dwight walk her out, please."

"No, it's okay," I shake my head, "I can manage." I walk out the front door and head to my car, so I can go home.

"Hey, Pippa!" Dwight call outs behind me shortly after. I stop by my car and turn to see him walking over to me with my purse in his hand. "You left this in there."

"Oh, crap," I curse, "Thank you."

"No problem," He extends the purse my way, but as I go to grab it, it slips between both our hands, "Shit."

"It's okay, I got it." I bend down to get it.

"I can- AH!"

"Fuck!" I hold the back of my head. Evidently, when I bent down to get my purse, so did Dwight and I just colliding the back of my head with his face. "Sorry, D, I- oh, shit your nose is bleeding!"

Dwight brings his hand from under his nose and inspects the blood on his fingers. "It's alright."

"Here," I rifle through my purse and pull out a tissue from a little packet, "Hold this to it."

"Thanks." He says and our hands graze as I hand him over the tissue. I can't help but laugh a little at the sight of him holding one of Jolyon's teddy bear decorated tissues to his bloody nose. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I laugh, "Let me see."

Dwight pulls the tissue away. "How bad?"

I step closer to have a look, before smiling and chuckling. "You'll live." He snickers as he looks down at me and smiles back. I turn around and unlock my car door, opening it up. "Thanks again for having me," I say as I set down my purse and cake down on the passenger's seat, "I really had a good time."

"I'm glad you came." He replies.

I look over at him and grin. "You gotta little more blood coming, so here." I pull out another tissue and hand it to him.

"Thank you."

Our hands touch again and we both still for some reason. My eyes traipse up and discover his lightly fixed on me. The air between us feels denser. The door to his house opens and Caroline comes forward. "Dwight?"

He looks over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Pippa forgot her purse!" D then looks back to me. "Bye."

"Bye." I murmur, pulling my hand back to me.

"See you later, Pippa!" Caroline waves. "I'm gonna call you!"

I wave, before hastily getting to my car, feeling achingly breathless. Dwight steps back, before heading back to his house. I drive off without looking back at him from my rearview mirror.

 **...**

I spent the whole morning having my students get into groups and discuss chapters of the book, while answering questions. I have a roaring headache and I feel sick to my stomach. I didn't even pack a lunch for myself, so I'm just passing the lunch period with my head on my desk and my eyes closed. The coffee I had gotten this morning is ice cold by now, but I don't mind.

"Knock, knock," Negan says as he opens the door to my classroom.

"You know, usually when the door's closed, the blinds are drawn, and the lights are off, that's the cue to leave whoever's inside alone."

"Yeah, I know," He claims, dropping something down on one of the desks, "And just an FYI for _you_ ; they will fuckin' fire your ass, if you keep coming in hungover."

"I'm not hungover," I lift up my head and furrow my brows at the medium pizza box on the desk, "What is that?"

"Pizza, genius," Negan says with his mouth full, "Greasy food's good for a hangover."

"I am not hungover," I stand up and go over to the pizza box, "And that's a myth."

"If you don't have a hangover, why the fuck do you look so green in the gills?"

"Two pieces of super sugary cake and self-vexation." I answer, biting off a piece of cheese pizza.

"Do you hate yourself because you ate two pieces of cake, or did you eat two pieces of cake because you hate yourself?"

I chuckle. "The cake and the hatred are unrelated," I glance at his tall stature ridiculously sitting in a student desk, "What are you doing here?"

"Eating lunch," Negan grins, "And since you won't come to my office, I figured I'd come to you."

"I'm not stepping foot in that office, unless I can take a black light to it." I scoff, leaning against my desk.

"Some things are better left unknown, baby." He produces a humored, throated inhale.

"Gross."

"Thanks for covering for me the other day."

I curl my lip in disdain. "I didn't cover for you and Lara."

"That's sure as fuck what it looked like." Negan retorts.

"Well, it wasn't," I make clear to him as I eat my slice of pizza, "I just...didn't want my kid to hear any of the drama that would have ensued if I had let her husband find you."

Negan chuckles devilishly, which is annoying. "So, how was the date Friday night? Did you get it?"

"No," I bluntly answer.

"Did he?" He makes a gesture with his hand.

"Ugh, no!" I irritably growl.

"Damn, so neither of you got fucking lucky?"

"He left me on the side of the road." I toss my crust in the garbage.

"No shit?"

"No shit." I confirm.

"Holy shit," He laughs, "What a fucking dick."

"Yeah, you said it." I huff.

"What happened?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? It's the furthest thing from my mind right now."

"Huh, and what's the closest?"

My eyes look tiredly over at his earnest face. "I don't want to talk about that, either," I grab another slice, "What about you? Did you get lucky?"

Negan raises his eyebrows and grins wide. "Sure did."

"Poor Mrs...whatever the fuck your last name is."

He chuckles heartily. "It's all good, honey. We've got aspirin at our house."

I roll my eyes. "Wonderful."

"I'm sorry your date left you high and fuckin' dry."

I snicker at him. "I'm not."

"Are you going to the homecoming game Friday?" Negan asks.

My brows gather in puzzlement. "Is that this week?"

"Yes, hence all the school spirit crap all over the halls."

Now that I think about it, I did notice the kids were more hyped this morning. "Oh, yeah."

"So, are you?" He inquires again.

"Um, I don't know," I look around my class in thought, "My parents had Jolyon for most of the weekend and I don't have another babysitter."

"Bring him along," Negan casually suggests, "People do it all the damn time."

"I don't know, maybe."

 **...**

I start to feel better by time school ends, but Jolyon is sort of worn out on staying at my work after school. I get it; it is rather boring to just sit there. Nevertheless, he finds some way to make himself busy, like "cleaning" the tops of the desks with a tissue and drawing on the board. On our way back from the bathroom, I notice the football team coming in from the field.

"What a fucking asshole," One boy curses as he swipes his hand across his sweaty forehead, "He's such a goddamn dictator."

"Shut the fuck up," The blotchy faced teammate behind him shoves his shoulder, "You want him to-"

"Hastings," Negan strolls in from outside and they all freeze, "Is there a problem?"

The kid lowers his head. "No, Coach."

"No?" Negan purses his lip in thought. "I'm pretty fuckin' sure that I heard some bitching coming from your fuckin' chili hole."

"No, sir."

Negan sucks air in through his teeth, nodding. "Alright, I want everyone to get back out there and run a mile around the track." Everyone groans, but complies. "Except you," He stops Hastings with a smirk, "You sit on the bleachers and make sure everyone does four laps around."

The Hastings kid flickers his eyes towards his teammates and then at back the coach. "Uh, I-"

"Here," Negan hands him his stop watch, "Clock everyone's time and write down anyone who's under five-thirty. Be my eyes."

"Yes, Coach." Hastings nervously nods.

Negan looks at the other kids. "Well? Chop, chop, you sorry shits."

The kids exit the building and I can faintly hear some of them spit swears at Hastings. "That was mean," I tell him.

Negan whips around. "Holy shit, where the fuck did you come from?"

"The bathroom, Mr. I-Don't-Scare-Easy," I smirk, as I approach him.

"Well, to be fair, you were just lurking around the damn corner."

"We certainly were not, were we?" I wiggle Jolyon's hand in mine.

"No." Jolyon shakes his head.

Negan chuckles. "The kid's biased."

"Right."

"Wanna play catch?" Jolyon asks Negan.

"He's busy right now, Jol."

"Nah, I got time," Negan smiles, "Can't go anywhere until all the players come back in from the field."

"Please," Jolyon tugs on my arm, begging.

"Alright, fine." I glance at Negan, "I better not come back to find my kid running laps."

"No promises." He snickers.

I point my finger at him. "Don't be an asshole to my kid, or you'll regret it."

"Relax, Pip," Negan throatily laughs, "I'll be nice."

I only had a few more papers to grade when I got back to my room and I tend to get more done faster without Jolyon in the room. I clean up a little, until I hear the grumbling of teenagers, as they pass my room. Despite being pissed about having to run extra laps, none of them say a word about Negan. They instead give Hastings a hard time and he tells them all to shut the fuck up.

After locking the door to my classroom, I head in the direction they just came from. Negan's loud mouth can be heard before I turn down the hall. I go out through the propped open door and instantly see Jolyon and him throwing a football back and forth.

"You ready?"

"Yes," Jolyon nods.

"Okay, here it comes," Negan goes like he's gonna throw it hard, but then tosses it fairly soft.

I release my breath and calm the hell down, because I was almost about to rip him a new one, if he had decked my kid with the ball. Jolyon fumbles, but manages to keep the ball from slipping out of his hands.

"Nice work!" Negan praises, "Now toss it back, laces out." He steps closer before Jolyon throws the ball and catches it.

Jolyon sees me and smiles, running over. "Mommy, did you see me?"

"I did!" I scoop him up and kiss his cheek. "Good job!"

Negan meanders over with the ball in his hand. "Yeah, you're the shit, kid."

"I'm the shit!" Jolyon tells me with a bright smile.

I gasp, "Don't say that, Jol!"

"Calm your tits," Negan laughs; "It's all in good fun, right?"

"Yeah, Mom," Jolyon pets my hair, "it's fun."

"I better not hear another swear come out of your mouth, Jolyon Christopher." I warn, before turning my phasers on Negan. "Real nice."

"I didn't tell him to say it." Negan snickers.

"Yes, you did." Jolyon looks at Negan. "You said I could, member?"

I cock my brow at Negan. "Oh, really?"

His pearly whites are all showing. "Alright, guilty as charged. Sorry."

"You wanna play tomorrow, too?" Jolyon asks him.

"If I got some time." Negan answers with a gentler smile. He then peers back at me. "See ya tomorrow, Ms. Barnes."

"Yeah," I huff, smirking, "See you tomorrow."

 **...**

Everyone's been so stoked all week for the big homecoming game that it's kind of infectious. I never really took much interest in school functions at the school I use to teach at, but I found myself amused by the little things the student council put together for each day leading up. This school has a lot of pride, specifically hinged on the football team, which is a little pathetic, but I guess not wholly different from any school in Texas.

I went to the pep rally at lunch this afternoon with Lourdes and it was fun to see all the students cheer on their Viking mascot ripping apart a paper mache bulldog that's apparently the mascot of the opposing team. I scan the gymnasium for Negan, but don't see him anywhere. Lourdes makes a blasé guess of him being back in his office, porking one of the other teachers. This really seems like a time to shine for a guy like him and he's possibly missing it to add another stain to his office?

Later on that night, I decided to stay and see the class floats, find out who's crowned what, and watch the game. Seems like something Jolyon would like, too, so I brought him along.

"You decided to come, huh?"

I glance over my shoulder, as we're about to ascend the bleachers and smile saucily at Negan. "Yes, I thought I'd watch you get taken down a few pegs."

"And how exactly do you plan on seeing that tonight?" He grins.

"When you get out-coached by Thatcher High's coach, after his team beats ours." I retort.

Negan chuckles, humored by my taunting, "Well, I'm afraid the forecast calls for victory, asshole."

"Yeah, well, forecasts can be wrong, can't they?" I fire back, "So, don't bet on the weather."

Negan responds by holding up his middle finger with a grin and I just reciprocate, before climbing the bleachers. Lourdes waves me over and I'm a little bummed to see that her boyfriend, Simon, is seated next to her.

"Hey!" Lourdes smiles as I sit down next to her. "It's fucking cold out here!"

"Yeah," I chuckle slightly, "That's why I brought a blanket."

"Oh, smart!" She says, "I only brought a sweater and some hot cider. Want some?"

"Uh, sure."

"Babe, can you pour Pippa some cider?" Lourdes nudges Simon, "You remember Pippa."

"Yeah, the waitress." Simon pours some cider from a thermos into a little plastic lid. "How are ya?"

"Fine," I politely take the warm cup, "Thanks." I take a sip and am immediately with a strong hit of brandy.

"Mommy, can I have some?" Jolyon asks.

"No." I clear my throat, look over at Simon and faintly smile back at his odd grin.

The whole shebang goes on awesomely. The floats are actually better than I imagined, the homecoming royalty all looked really nice, and the game's in our favor. Our team's really good. The score's 20-0 and the other team is getting chewed out by their coach. That's not to say that our players are not, just because we're winning.

While others have focused on the game, I find myself more curiously drawing back to the coach as he takes strides up and down the edge of the field. You may not find this surprising, but he's being a real dick. Aside from shouting at the players whilst they're on the field, he criticizes them off field as well. And the weird thing is; they don't even have to do anything wrong. I noticed that while he'll tear into a player for slipping up, Negan will also criticizes someone who did good. It's not consistent, either. He'll pat one on the back and then almost purposely ignore another's amazing defense. It's some weird mind fuckery, but either the kids are use to it, or they don't dare cry and just try to be better, in order to get praised.

Jolyon cheers on my lap under the blanket I draped over us, not really having a clue as to what is going on, but still enjoying all the excitement. My eyes survey the bleachers in search of the anyone who resembles the woman I saw at the restaurant the other night. I was so focused on not paying mind to Negan, that I only got a piss poor side-glance of his wife's face. All I know is that she has glossy black hair that was pinned up and appeared to be pretty from the corner of my eye. But, I don't see any such woman. I mean, I see women who have black hair, but none of them really match.

At halftime, Lourdes and Simon leave and don't come back, even though she said they would. So, I'm left with my toddler, who passed out halfway through the third quarter. It's actually amazing that he's not been disturbed by the riotous noise all around us. Negan turns around every now and then, sometimes looking my way and giving me a cocky smirk, since he clearly isn't being out-coached.

The game eventually ends, 35-15, and after a round of raucous whooping and shouting, everyone files out with hoarse throats and scholastic pride. I wait until everyone around me has left until I get up, because I don't want to try and make it down the bleachers with all the careless passersbys while carrying Jolyon.

"What was it you fuckin' said about not betting on the weather?" Negan strolls on over as I come down the steps.

I chuckle quietly. "I'm big enough to admit when I'm wrong," I shrug to keep the blanket from dropping off my shoulder.

Negan catches the it before it falls into the dirt. "Going home?"

"Yeah, where else would I be going?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Hell, maybe."

"Maybe someday," I retort, "But not tonight."

"That's a shame," Negan's dimples are present in his smirk, as he walks with me to the parking lot.

"Are you staying to chaperone the homecoming dance?"

"Fuck no," He scoffs, "It's late and I fucking don't want to spend two more hours here, cock- blocking teenagers."

"I don't know, that could be fun."

Negan laughs. "Where's your fucking car at?" He points to my empty spot.

I widen my eyes. "Oh my god," I look around us, "I think someone stole my car."

"Fuck." He looks over his shoulder.

"Ha, gotcha!" I laugh, "Someone parked in my spot earlier, so I parked over there." I continue to walk, glancing back at him.

His serious face breaks and he laughs, too. "You are such a bitch."

"Yeah, I know." I press the button on my keys to unlock the car. Negan comes over and opens the back door for me. "Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I fasten a still sleeping Jolyon into his car seat. I then take the blanket from Negan and toss it over into the trunk, before closing the car door. I turn my body to face his. "Where's your wife at?"

"Ah, she's seen one homecoming game, she's seen 'em all," He casually tells me, "Plus, she thinks they're boring as shit."

"Well, I can't entirely argue with that," I smile sympathetically, "I'm more of a baseball fan myself." I yawn, tired. "Well, I guess I'll catch you later."

"Yeah, Monday."

"Yeah," I faintly sigh, "Well, goodnight."

Negan's eyes meet mine. "Night."

My smile fades as we hold each other's gaze. "Okay, then."

I open my car door to get in. Negan's hand suddenly touches my arm. "Hey."

"What?" I turn myself around and Negan's mouth encroaches upon mine.

* * *

 **As ever, thank you all so much for the support!**

 **CLTex: I really like this Negan, too. I like writing in a pre-apocalypse setting because it makes Negan just a regular guy who can't use his post-ZA power to gain anything, nor do any of the other characters have to bite their tongues. Although, I really want to pull out personality traits/behaviors in him that foreshadow the canon character that we all know and love.**

 **Dawn: Yes, there will be more of Simon in future chapters! As to whether or not he and Negan will meet, I cannot say at this point in time, because I honestly don't know. I do plan on featuring Lucille in some chapters, as she is Negan's wife and it'll definitely be fun to explore that marriage. After reading all the "Here's Negan" strips, I formed my own analytical understanding of the two from the brief insight and so I absolutely want to flesh that out in my AU fic. And yes, there will be more canon characters in future chapters as well!**

 **Mrs. JustinGabriel: Thanks for enjoying both this fic and Save Yourself! I really appreciate the feedback!**

 **PropertyofNegan77: Nope, Lucille is not dead...yet. Lol! Thanks for the kind words, I'm glad you like the story!**


	9. Chapter 9

Negan holds his lips to mine in a deliberately long kiss. I close my eyes at the kinetic feeling. Despite seeming like two magnets bound together, his mouth pulls apart from mine and returns with a more subtler connection, though no less potent. My hand reaches and takes hold of his shirt, balling it inside my fist. Negan's arm snakes around to the middle of my back where he presses a hand. He uses it to pull me closer, as he shifts his weight in an attempt to deepen the kiss.

My other hand touches the bicep that's helped bring me in, as I become more immersed. Things start to get hot and heavy, the pace more feverous, and I'm not entirely sure either one of us is initially or solely responsible for that. I leave part of his shirt in wrinkles, traveling my arm upwards. I feel his other hand traipse the curve of my hip, before gripping it.

Hushed young giggling causes me to immediately snap out it and turn my head in the direction of the sound. Two girls quietly cackle with each other as they enter into through the door of the gym that'll take them to the dance, completely unaware of him and I in the dimly lit parking lot.

Once they've gone in, I look back at Negan and see that he also turned his attention towards the noise. He faces me again and snickers lightly, before leaning back in to resume. I let him kiss me again, but now I'm more in and of my own senses, no longer taken by sudden and welcomed passion. I move my head to the side, breaking the kiss, but he begins peppering me with sensual kisses. The back of my ear, alongside my jaw, and then down my neck.

"Wait," I quietly say, pushing a little, "I have to go home."

"Stay." He takes a step forward, consequently making me move back until I feel my car against my backside.

I shake my head. "Stop."

"It's just us out here, darlin'." Negan's hands take up the button of my jeans.

I shove his hands back. "I said stop."

He glances down at the ground and sighs heavily, before looking back to me. "What's the problem?"

"What do you think?" I scoff, darting my eyes out towards the rest of the parking lot and praying no one else is here.

Negan runs a hand through his hair. "We could go to my car."

"My son's in the car." I check behind me through the window to make sure he's still asleep.

"My car's like two fuckin' spots away."

"That's not the point," I snap lowly, while running my hands down my shirt as if to smooth everything out.

"So then what is?" Negan huffs.

"Take a wild guess." I answer, stepping closer to the open driver's side.

He grumbles to himself. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"I have to go home." I get into the Jeep, "You should, too. It's late and your...your wife is probably expecting you home."

"She's not waiting up for me," Negan puts his hand on the car door.

"Well, maybe if you weren't out doing this, she would." I shut the door and stick the key in the ignition, turning on the car.

Negan makes a disgruntled scoffing noise, before adjusting himself and stalking off. I put my hands on the steering wheel, then my forehead, taking a deep breath. I sit up a second later and pull out of the parking spot. As I drive out of the lot, I briefly glance at him getting into his car, but look straight ahead when he turns his head.

 **...**

I lift my right foot out of the water and examine my unpainted toes. I think about the bottles of nail polish I own, mentally going over each shade and how I don't feel like any of them will do. The tub caddy holds the mimosa I made for myself in a mug and just that, since the soap fell off and plunked into the water. I don't know if you can make a mimosa from gin, but I didn't have champagne because I don't celebrate much, so I'm sure it's fine. I hum with the song that's crooning out from my iPod dock, as I find the bar of soap that's slipped under my knee and lather it against my skin.

I hear a sudden crash coming from outside my bedroom. "What was that?" I call out loud enough for Jolyon to hear me.

"Pip broked a vase!" He shouts.

I sigh, irritably, "Which one?"

"The green one, 'cause he jumped on the TV thing!"

"Oh, well, that's okay then," I mutter, glad that it wasn't my favorite, "Stay out of the living room, until I get in there to clean it up!"

I finish washing in the bathtub and cup my hand to pool water my way to rinse off. The annoying ring tone of my phone starts to play from my purse where I left my phone last night after we got home.

"Jolyon!"

"Coming!" His hurried footsteps come down the hall.

"Get Mommy's phone and bring it here, please." I stand up and wrap a towel around myself, stepping out onto the bathmat.

Jolyon comes running in with my phone. "Here."

"Thanks, baby." I look down at the missed call and see that it was from Lourdes. I turn off the music and open my medicine cabinet, as I call her back. Jolyon sticks his hand in the tub and sloshes the draining water.

"Hello?" Lourdes picks up. "Pippa?"

"Hey," I mouth for Jolyon to 'turn it off' after he turns the cold water nozzle on, "I just missed your call."

"Yeah, I left my sweater at the game last night and I was calling to see if maybe you saw it there."

"Oh, yeah," I smear some cream on my face, "I put it in my purse after you didn't come back."

"Thank you," Lourdes replies, "I was getting a little hungry and Simon wanted to leave, so we did and I completely forgot that I left it there as a seat saver."

"It's okay, I can just give it to you on Monday."

"Great, thank you so much!" She says. I hear Simon's voice and then her quiet, but firm response, before she speaks to me again. "How was the rest of the game?"

"Our team won," I tell her indifferently.

"That's cool," Lourdes faintly snaps at Simon in Spanish, "I gotta go, but I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

"Yeah, see ya."

"Bye." She hangs up.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and while I look like my typical self, I feel different and sort of grimy. Nevertheless, I'm use to having days like this, so I'll just have to wait until the sun goes down and Jolyon goes to bed, before I can do anything about it.

 **...**

The grocery store is quiet this afternoon when Jolyon and I make it over to pick up some milk and all the ingredients I don't have at home to make chocolate chip cookies. Despite always feeling overwhelmed whenever I bake, it's a good distracter. I don't know why I get all stressed out, maybe it's because I can never seem to find the exact measuring cups I need, or the combination of all the flour, eggs, etc. Or maybe it's the anticipated mess I know I'll have to clean up, but whatever the reason, all the external mayhem distracts me from everything internal.

Jolyon's a pill to take to the grocery store, because he wants to see every random this or that down every fucking aisle. I always stay down the center of the aisles, so that he won't be tempted to grab something off the shelves. A graveyard of broken jars and bottles has taught me that.

"Get those ones." He points to a bag of mint chocolate chips, only knowing what they are because of the ribbon of green through each chip.

"How about we make those next time?" I suggest, grabbing a bag of milk chocolate chips.

"But I like those ones."

"You've never even had those ones." I inform him, while looking for the cheapest bag of flour.

"Yes, I have!" Jolyon claims.

"When?" I challenge with a smirk.

"Um...Gran and Pop have them."

I snort. "You are such a fibber."

"No!" He smiles.

"Yes." I poke his belly, which makes him laugh.

We head to the refrigerated section in search of milk. The two percent is on the bottom shelf and I have to reach back to get the only one left.

"Mommy, that's your friend."

I stand up with my jug of milk, closing the door. "What?"

"Your friend." Jolyon points.

I softly push down his pointing finger and peer down the aisle. I know this is a small town, but fucking come on! How the fuck is it that every time I step out of my house, I run into Dwight? He looks over a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand and then up at a shelf in what looks from here to be confusion. I drive my cart down the aisle and it doesn't take him long to glance over and see us.

"Hey." Dwight greets.

"Hi, D," I grin, "Shopping all by yourself?"

"Uh, yeah, but I can't find the rice Sherry wants." He points to the brand of rice that's listed on the paper he's holding.

"Oh, well, rice is down _that_ aisle," I nod to the aisle before this one.

D looks up at the overhanging sign that indicates that I'm right, before looking down at the list again. "Oh, I thought maybe it'd be down with pasta, since they cook the same way, right?"

I chuckle. "Nope, down that aisle."

"Thanks."

"Sure," I roll the cart and he walks in the same direction, "So, where's Sherry?"

"Her and my mom went to some coworker's bridal shower, or something," Dwight casually peeks into my cart, "How have you been? I mean, I know I just saw you last weekend, but how have you been since then?"

"Mm, I'm okay," I answer, mildly, "You?"

"Fine," He replies, strolling down the correct aisle that I go down, too, "Been on any more dates?"

I scoff, humored. "No, I think I'm good for awhile."

"Well, that's good." He softly states. I glance over at him, curious by his remark. Dwight timidly looks away, "Uh, you know...I meant-"

"I know what you meant."

"Mommy, can I see that for a minute?" Jolyon aims his finger at a box of stuffing mix.

"No, you may not." I say to him.

Dwight smiles, before glancing over his list again. "Uh, do you know where I'd find this?" He shows me the paper. "I'm not even sure I know what it is."

I try not to laugh at his naivety. "That's down the feminine hygiene aisle."

"Oh," He nods, "Oh!"

"It's a box of tampons, Dwight." I snicker quietly.

"Well, why didn't she write that down?" Dwight asks under his breath, embarrassed.

"She probably didn't think about it," I grin, slowly walking through the store with him, "I don't always call things what they are; sometimes I just use the name of the brand to describe things, so that's probably what she did."

"Well, thank god you were here, because that would have been way more embarrassing to ask a worker." He huffs.

"If you want, I could go down with you. You know, to make sure you get the right ones."

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it," Dwight tells me, "Thanks."

We go down the aisle together, which just so happens to also have the band-aids and first aid on the adjacent shelves.

"We need band aids." Jolyon says, spotting them.

"No, we don't," I retort, "We've got plenty at home."

"But we need those ones," He points to a box that contains band-aids with various sports balls on them.

"Why do we need those ones?"

"Um...because if I fall down, or the ball hits me, I need those ones to make it better." Jolyon explains.

"The ones we have will work just fine." I tell him, knowing fully well that he's thinking about hanging out with the coach after school, which dampens my mood a little to think about how disappointed he's gonna be in a few days.

"No, Mom, they won't work," He objects; "Only those will work."

"You know, he's right." Dwight weighs in, smiling.

I roll my eyes, also smiling. "Okay, fine." I hand Jolyon a box. "Do not open them, understand?"

"Yes." Jolyon nods, studying the box.

I turn my attention to the other side of the aisle, taking up a box of tampons. "Here," I offer them to Dwight, "These are the ones."

"Thank you." He takes them from me and puts them in the front of the cart where kids usually sit.

Turns out that Dwight and I didn't park that far from each other, so after we both check out, we walk together out to the parking lot. Dwight sticks the two bags he had in the front of his truck and then offers to help me load my groceries into my trunk.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" I ask, putting the milk in the trunk.

"Nothing much," He relays, "This elderly couple that lives a mile down from us asked if I could fix their slider door, so after that, I'll probably just wait for the baseball game that's on at five."

I smirk, "All your neighbors must love you."

D chuckles, slightly puzzled. "What do you mean?"

I push the car to the return corral that's right next to my car. "I mean that you've always been so friendly and willing to help others," I close down the trunk, while looking at him, "So, it must be nice to live close to you when something breaks."

Dwight gazes at me and the corners of his mouth tip upward. "What are you doing after this?"

"Going home and baking."

"I thought you hated baking," He replies, "I remember how the home ec. teacher almost made you cry in the tenth grade, because you set off the smoke alarm after burning a loaf of bread."

I laugh fondly. "It was a bundt cake and my partner was suppose to set the timer."

"She did everything else," Dwight chuckles, "You had to do something in order to get credit."

"Shut up!" I playfully shove his shoulder. We both laugh some more, but as it settles, we're left with this silence in the air. It's unclear as to what to do, or say between us, so I just clear my throat for the sake of cutting the quietude. "So, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah." He glances down at the ground.

"Probably, sooner than later, since the town seems smaller than I remember," My grin weakens when he looks up, "Um, because we keep running to each other."

"Yeah, it's weird." Dwight rubs the back of his neck.

"It is?"

He nods, reaching into his pants pocket. "Well, I mean that we haven't seen each other in a long time and now it's like almost every other day."

"Yeah, whoever's in charge really has a sick sense of humor." I murmur at my keys, "I gotta go."

Dwight blinks and raises his brows, as he lets out a sigh. "Me, too."

"Bye, D."

"See ya."

 **...**

Monday comes and aside from going to Lourdes' classroom to give her back her sweater and chat for a few minutes, I don't wander out of my classroom for anything. After spending all of Saturday afternoon baking and then drinking myself into putting off Friday night's incident, I was jittery all morning at the thought of having to go to work. I got sick shortly after waking up, because of the twelve cookies I stressfully ate Sunday night, so I'm taking things slow today with some peppermint tea and Dramamine.

Today at lunch, Ravinder and the nine other students in the book club I agreed to delegate are meeting to discuss some YA novel they're collectively reading. I listen in as I go through some homework, intrigued by the protagonist's troubles.

"I think that what happened way back in the third chapter really affected her more than she realized and-" Ravinder's interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door to my class and then trying to open it, unaware that it's locked. Ravinder looks at the door and then at me. "Um, Ms. Barnes?"

"There's a sign taped to the window, so go ahead and continue, honey," I assure her from my desk, "My class is closed today."

"Okay, um, anyway...I think that she really-" She's once again interrupted, this time by a tapping noise on the glass.

I sigh, frustrated, and then stand up. "I'll take care of this."

I walk over to the door and lift back the roll up curtain I pulled down, so that the club could have some privacy. Low and fucking behold; it's Negan outside my chamber door. I furrow my brows at him, slightly perplexed and definitely unpleased that he's standing out there in the hall.

He signals for me to open up, but I shake my head. Negan nods his head yes and taps the window again with his finger.

"Is everything okay?" Ravinder asks.

"Yeah, it's fine." I smile back at her, before scowling at Negan.

"Open the door." He half-mouths, half-verbalizes.

"No," I mouth back.

"Yes."

I point to the paper I taped to the window that informs all who wish to enter that I'm closed, because of the book club in session. Negan barely looks it over, most likely because he read it before he even knocked, before rolling his eyes and flipping me the bird.

"Go fuck yourself." I silently convey.

Negan grins wide and then starts tapping on the glass more loudly. I unlock the door and swiftly move out, closing the door behind me.

"You mind telling me what the fuck your problem is, asshole?" I sharply sneer at him.

Negan snickers through his nose, before turning his head to the side, which makes me do the same. Four students stopped in their tracks, staring at me from down the hall. Negan looks back at me and smirks.

"My, my, Ms. Barnes," He says with mocking disapproval, "Profane language is a violation of the school code of conduct and is therefore never permissible on school grounds, as it hinders the positive learning environment we strive for, as well as sets a poor example to the our students."

I glare at his scripted statement, before looking over at the kids. "Sorry."

All of them appear to be unbothered by my profanity and so they continue to wherever it is they were going. Negan chuckles throatily under his breath as they disappear around a corner.

I fold my arms and glower at him. "You sure had that code of conduct line down."

He smiles, raising his eyebrows. "Sure fuckin' do," He proudly states, "I gotta drawer full of letters from the school district on the matter of my less than appropriate vocabulary. I get 'em at least once or twice a year."

"Only once or twice?" I cock my brow, skeptical.

"That's more than anyone else in this joint." Negan retorts, as if it's an accomplishment.

The door to my classroom opens and lightly bumps into me. "Ms. Barnes, should we cut book club short today?"

"No, Rav," I answer her meek inquiry, "Everything's fine; I'll be back inside in a minute."

"Okay." Ravinder closes the door.

I glance up at Negan who's still smiling. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you."

"Well, I'm busy right now and I don't want to talk."

Negan gives me a brief up and down. "You're busy with your dork meeting?"

"Yeah." I reply, humorlessly.

"Bullshit, you're just the delegate." He scoffs.

"Irrelevant." I shrug, turning so that I can go back inside.

"So, we're not gonna fuckin' talk about how you were all over me the other night?" He asks rather loudly.

I whip around and stare at him incredulously. "I was..." I quickly look down both ends of the hall, "I was _not_ all over you!" I quietly snap.

"Oh, really?" He says with a dimpled grin.

" _You_ kissed _me_ ," I accuse angrily, "Not the other way around."

"Yeah, but you got into it."

"Bullshit!"

"Bullshit?" Negan chuckles at my denial. "The only one slingin' bullshit here is you, honey. You kissed back."

"If you hadn't kissed me, I would never have kissed you first, or even have dreamed of it." I scoff.

"And if those kids hadn't walked by," Negan rebuts, "You would've fuckin' gone all the way."

I make a face. "That's not true."

"Whatever the fuck helps you sleep at night."

I stare at his unrelenting expression, before I sigh. "Go to hell, Negan."

I open the door of my classroom and go back inside, uninterested in arguing with him a second more.

 **...**

I spend the next week and a half avoiding Negan whenever possible. It's usually pretty easy, because we both have shit to do during most of the workday. But he hasn't pestered me at lunch like he usually does and when I see him in the halls; I give him the cold shoulder. I don't think he has enough impulse control to not say anything when we cross paths, but thankfully it's only been casual, flat "good mornings" and "have a good night."

The toughest challenge is after school. We both hang around after work and sometimes I think we're the only two that do, because I don't typically see any other staff members after four. Mrs. Calder only stayed the one day for the sole purpose of hooking up and after almost being caught by her husband, she goes home when the students do.

Since it's starting to cool down, the school's air conditioning has shut off and now the heater fumes through the classes all day. While it's nice in the mornings, by afternoon it's a little too warm, so I've been keeping the second door to my classroom open, which lets in a breeze from the outside.

Jolyon can hear the whistling and shouting coming all the way from the football field. And when it's basketball instead of football practice, we can hear the shriek scuffing of shoes on the court and the booming of basketballs. I know he's hoping to see Negan and possibly entertains the idea of getting to play catch or H.O.R.S.E, but no opportunity arises.

Today, I walk down to Happy Hands to pick him up and I'm starting to think I should've drove. I usually walk, since it's only a block away, but the clouds look a little gray and suspicious.

"Hey!" Lourdes catches up to me.

"Hi," I slow down a bit, "What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm going home." She smiles, wrapping her cardigan to her body instead of buttoning it.

"You parked down here?"

"No, Simon drove me to work," Lourdes nods towards his Camaro that's parked down from the high school and across the street, "One of my tires was flat this morning."

"Oh, and he gets off work around the same time?" I ask.

"He makes his own hours." She answers. Yeah, I bet he does. "You walking down to the daycare?"

"Yeah, to get Jolyon."

Lourdes touches her cheek and then looks up at the sky. "Want us to give you a ride to and back?"

"Oh, no," I smile, politely, "It's not too far."

"I think I just felt a raindrop, though," She gives me a nervous look, "It might rain."

"I'm sure it'll stop any second."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you when you two are soaked!" Lourdes laughs, before waving and crossing the street.

"See you tomorrow." I murmur as she makes it across.

Simon glances over at me as Lourdes gets into the car, giving me a light, somewhat indifferent wave of the hand. I wave back and then keep walking to the daycare. Lourdes lets out a mirthful laugh and I turn to see her kiss him tenderly on the mouth. A drop of water bats my cheek and I zip up my hoodie, picking up the pace.

Lourdes' warning went unheeded and because of that, Jolyon and I scurry back up the road to the high school to get out of the rain. Jolyon thinks it's a riot, laughing all the way and putting his hand out to catch the raindrops.

"Hurry, hurry!" I chuckle breathily, speed walking with him hand in hand on the sidewalk.

"It's like we're showering!"

"You're so silly." I put the hood to his jacket back up.

A car comes up the road behind us and I can see from the corner of my eye that it slows down as it approaches us. I look over and find that it's Negan's old Mustang.

He rolls down his window. "Need a ride?"

"No, thank you." I bleakly reply, continuing to walk.

"Really?" Negan scoffs, slowly following me. "It's fucking raining."

"It's not too bad," I say with a slight shiver in my voice, "And we're almost there."

"So, let me drive you the rest of the way." He offers again.

"I'm fine."

"Well, then at least let me give your boy a lift," Negan says, annoyed, "If you wanna to get sick, that's all well and fuckin' fine, but there's no sense in the kid catching something, too."

I scoff at his attempt to make me feel like a bad parent. "You don't have a car seat."

"The school's right fucking there!" Negan puts his hand up in that direction. "Jesus, Pip, I'm just trying to be-"

"Nice." I finish his sentence bitterly.

"That's right."

I stop in my tracks and sigh at myself, before looking over at him. He looks earnest enough, but what's that even worth with him? Jolyon lets go of my hand and extends both of his arms to be picked up. I sigh again, "Okay, fine."

"Atta girl." Negan grins, stopping the car.

I pick Jolyon up and go over to the passenger's side, opening the door and climbing in. I don't look or speak to him as he drives down to the school. Jolyon rests his head on my shoulder, facing Negan.

"What's that?" He points to something I can't see.

Negan looks over. "It's a cup of coffee."

"I like coffee." Jolyon tells him.

"Oh, yeah?" Negan smiles with his eyes on the road.

"Mommy lets me have coffee."

"How responsible of her." He chuckles.

I don't say anything at that, because I know that he only said it to prod me into some sassy retort.

"What's that?" Jolyon asks.

"Are you telling me you've never had little powdered donuts before?" Negan says, humored and skeptical.

"...No." Jolyon fibs.

The coach snickers. "Would you like one?"

"Yes, please."

"Since you said please." Negan parks into a spot closest to the front entrance. There's a rustling and then I feel Jolyon reach over and move back.

"Thank you." Jolyon sits up and looks at me. "Look, Mom." He holds up a little white donut.

"I see." I meekly smile, gathering up my purse that I tossed on the floor. I then get out of the car and so does Negan.

The three of us go into the building, the third wheel treading right alongside Jolyon and I without any clue, or maybe care on whether or not I want him to. Jolyon puts his hand up to Negan for another donut and Negan takes one from the rowed package and hands it to him. I open the door to my class and go inside. Jolyon asks Negan a question that I don't really catch, but I'm betting it has something to do with playing in the gym.

"I don't know," Negan answers him, "You have to ask your mom."

I sit down at my desk and finally look over at him and his ardent, yet smart allecky face.

Jolyon comes over to me and extends the little ring-shaped junk food up. "Want a bite?"

I smile sweetly at him and then lean forward, taking a small bite. "Thanks, baby," I chew, "You're such a good sharer."

"Yeah," Jolyon lightly agrees, "Mommy, can I go play with the basketballs?"

I exhale, glancing briefly at Negan who seems to be just as interested in the answer. "Actually, Jol, I think we're gonna go home."

"Aww!"

"I know, but we need to get out of these wet clothes," I shut down my computer and lock the desk up.

"Just five minutes?" Jolyon touches his powdery hands to my legs in soft pleading.

"No, I'm sorry, but we have to go home." I get out my car keys and head for the door that's sans Negan. Jolyon pouts, but follows me out. I turn my head down the hall, where Negan's back is to me as he strolls to his office.

 **...**

I wake up the next morning with a heavy head and slight headache, but it must be from being out in the rain yesterday, because I didn't drink last night after we got home. I stretch my body out and then reach for my phone on my nightstand. I see I've missed a call...yesterday evening. My phone was on silent and I'm not always good at checking after a certain time in the day.

I don't recognize the number, but there's a voicemail, so I listen to it.

 _"Hi, it's me..."_ The caller says and I immediately know who it is, _"I have a new number, so I was calling to inform you of that, so you could save this new one into your contact list."_ There's a pause and I know it's because he's nervously thinking about what to say next, if he should say anything at all. _"Well, I...I guess that is all I'd like to say currently. Give my regards to Jolyon and if you're agreeable to it, I'd like very much to speak to him over the phone one of these days. I hope everything's well and to your liking in Virginia...Um, goodbye."_


	10. Chapter 10

I go with Lourdes to get some coffee at lunch today. I could really use an espresso, instead of that black lagoon water that Diane heats up in the coffee pot. I don't know if it's the brand of coffee she uses, or the coffee maker itself, but I have to agree with Negan that Diane consistently fucks up the coffee in the break room. She's nice, so I don't make a scene like that asshole does, but it's still pretty bad.

Lourdes prattles on about how her mother spent thirty minutes over the phone last night to rag on Simon and how she thinks Lourdes could do so much better. "Mira, if you knew my mother, it wouldn't matter if Simon was the right hand man of the Savior himself," She shakes her head, "He still wouldn't be good enough. No one I like ever is."

I smile at the way she rolls her eyes. "I know what you mean."

"Your mom the same way?"

"Mm, not really, because I haven't really ever been in a relationship, but she certainly has some thoughts she likes to share with me on the subject."

Lourdes looks at me, confounded. "You've never been in a relationship?"

I shrug, as we go through the coffee shop's drive-thru. "Well, that's technically not true. I have, just not in the strictest sense."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning...I haven't been with another person in a committed, monogamous setting."

She chuckles a little. "What? So, you went around with someone who had side bitches?"

I laugh with her. "No, I mean, I just haven't ever been interested in getting into something serious with anyone."

"What about Jolyon's dad?" Lourdes inquires. "Is he one of those losers that took off when the test showed double lines?"

I rest my head against my closed hand. "Not exactly."

Lourdes rolls down her window and orders into the box. We each get our coffees and something to eat, then head back to the school. On the way back, Lourdes' phone beeps to indicate she's got a text message.

"Would you mind seeing who that's from?" She hands me her phone.

"It's from your boyfriend."

"What does it say?"

I look down at the screen. "Um, I don't know. The notification just says it's from Simon."

"Oh, my phone isn't locked," She informs me, "You can go ahead and open it."

I hesitate, but open up the message. "It says; 'Are you at lunch?'"

"Can you tell him that I am?"

"Okay." I nod, a little surprised that she's so comfortable about someone else text for her. I type in "Yeah" and send the message.

The phone rings shortly after and I look to Lourdes for guidance. She bites her lip, peering down at the phone. "Um, don't answer it. Just let it go to voicemail and then tell him I'll call him in a minute."

I wait until it stops ringing and then message him what Lourdes told me to, feeling just a little weird being their medium. A message pings and Lourdes gives me the go ahead to read it.

My cheeks warm up. "Um..." I show her the screen as she pulls into her parking spot.

She reads the message and then her eyes widen and she gasps. "Oh, shit." She grabs the phone from me. "I'm so sorry! I should've just waited."

"It's okay." I chuckle, somewhat amused.

"I'm so embarrassed," She shakes her head, "I gotta call him back and tell him what an ass he just made of me."

"Okay," I open the car door, "See you later."

"Yeah." She smiles with the phone to her ear. As I walk away, I can hear her shouting in her car. "I was driving! Pippa was texting for me, Simon! She saw that message!"

I laugh under my breath as I stroll towards the entrance. As I enter the school, I hear some commotion coming from the first hall to the left. It sounds like some girls are arguing. I recognize one of the voices to be Ravinder's and I tread faster to the hall.

"Please, give 'em back!" She shouts.

"You made me look stupid!" Another girl yells back.

I go down the corner and see Ravinder reaching for her magenta framed glasses that are being suspended higher up than her grasp can reach by her older sister.

"Nanda!" Ravinder begs with a little bit of cracking in her voice.

"How am I suppose to show my face in gym tomorrow, shithead?" Nanda shoves her back a little.

Ravinder smacks her sister's hand away. "You're such a...bitch!" _Crack!_

"Hey!" I shout as I make my way over to the sisters and the two other girls that look like they're Nanda's grade. "Give her back her glasses and go to the office, right now!"

Nanda scoffs. "But she-"

"Now!" I firmly repeat.

She tosses Ravinder back her glasses and then storms off in the direction of the office. Ravinder puts her glasses on, while holding her cheek.

"Are you alright?" I ask her.

She nods. "Yeah, my sister's just being her usual self."

"What happened?"

Ravinder looks nervously at me, fiddling with her hands. "Um...nothing."

"Ravinder?" I arch my brow.

She sighs, "I was just teasing her, because she teased me first!"

"About what?"

"Well, she said I was a nerd for liking graphic novels and I said she was a bigger nerd for..."

"For?" I press.

"...Um, for liking Coach Negan." Ravinder winces lIke I'm going to snap.

I unknit my brows. "Oh."

"She has a huge crush on him and she's always making fun of me, so I was just doing it back to her!" She pleads her case. "I didn't know that he was behind us!"

"He heard you?"

"Yes, well...I don't know," Ravinder shrugs, "He didn't say anything...he barely even acknowledged us. Am I in trouble?"

"Well, sweetie," I sigh, "I think you're gonna have to do detention."

"Okay." She hangs her head and walks off.

I turn around and go to return to my office. On my way, I almost collide with Lourdes, who's just come in from her car. "Oops, sorry."

"No worries." She smiles brightly with a rosy flush in her cheeks that is unmistakably a result of doing what the text message suggested.

I get back into my office and let out a long exhale of breath. I pace a little before deciding to go talk to him. There isn't any girls hanging out around the corner of the locker rooms, nor is there any moaning hailing from down the hall either, so I figure it's safe to say he's alone.

Once I'm down the hall, I can see from the window of his office that he is in fact by himself. I reconsider for a moment, before treading down to his office. I knock on the door and wait for him to open up.

"Come in."

I turn the handle and push the door open. "Hey."

Negan looks away from his computer, briefly glances me over, and then returns to the screen. "Hey."

"Got a minute?" I ask.

"What?" He types something into the computer.

"Are you entering in grades?" I huff, somewhat amazed.

"Don't act so fucking surprised."

"Well, I just can't imagine you actually doing any of the paperwork."

"How the fuck do you figure I don't issue out grades?" Negan looks over at me. "It's the one thing you can't fuckin' blow off, or else they'll ride your ass."

I shrug, eyeing the office that's moderately tidy. "Um...did you happen to pass some girls a little while ago?"

"Students? Yeah, why?"

"Did you hear what they were talking about?" I inquire, brushing a hand down the front of my dress.

"Mm, nope," Negan shakes his head, "I don't give a flying fuck about what teenagers talk about at lunch. Why?"

"No reason," I sigh, relieved, although I don't know why, "Well, bye."

"Hey, wait a minute." He calls out.

I turn to look at him. "Yeah?"

Negan stares at me, before exhaling. "Look, about the other night...I'm sorry if I misinterpreted things and crossed a line."

I'm a little astounded. Negan's not really an apologetic kind of guy, but his words are sincere. "Okay. Thank you."

"So, we're cool?"

I aimlessly step inside his office. "Yeah, we're cool."

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

I snicker. "Yeah..."

"Have a seat." He offers the chair across from his.

"Are there any stains, or..." A letter taped to the white brick wall of his office catches my eye, "No fucking way."

"What?"

"You weren't joking about the letters from the school district." I state, pointing to the letter.

Negan gives me a toothy grin, amused by my reaction. "No, ma'am, I was not joking."

I smile, glancing back to the letter on the wall. "Wow, verbatim what you told me the other day."

"That's not the only one, baby," He chuckles, "I got plenty fuckin' more where that came from."

"So what makes this one special?"

"That's the first one sent by my wife."

My eyes flicker to him and then I scroll down to the bottom of the letter, where a name is both printed and signed next to her title and a gold foil seal. "Proud?"

"And a little turned on." He claims.

"Lucille Addams?" I look over to him. "Addams is your last name? Like the Addams Family? That's so appropriate."

Negan snickers. "That's her maiden name, smartass."

"Oh," I nod, "She not take your name when you married?"

"No, she did," He says, "But all her students knew her as Ms. Addams, so she kept the placard and just never changed it when she was moving on up."

"How bad is your last name that neither you, or her seem to want to go by it professionally?" I joke, grinning.

Negan laughs mildly, before looking down at his clipboard. "You can find it in the yearbooks in the library. It's not a secret, Ms. Barnes."

"So, what is it then?"

"Why so interested?" He retorts.

"Well," I walk around towards the door, "I'm just thinking that your last name has to be pretty bad, if you choose to have everyone call you Negan."

"You mean my first name?" Negan furrows his brows, smiling.

"Yeah, because what sort of name is that?" I taunt, laughing. "I mean, who came up with that dumb name?"

"Who came up with Pippa?" He cackles back. "Talk about dumb names. Pippa sounds like the name you'd give to a lap dog."

"At least it's an actual name." I chuckle, "Like there are other Pippas out there, but there's not other Negans. At least not any I've heard of."

"Maybe the name will catch on one day," Negan smirks, "Then everyone will be Negan, instead of John, or Tom."

"I highly doubt it, kiddo." I snort. The bell rings and my smile fades a little. "Well, I better go."

"You gonna be here after school?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, are you?"

"Yep." Negan grins.

 **...**

After school, Jolyon and I clean up around my classroom. Well, I clean up around my classroom. Jolyon, bless his heart, wants to help, but is more of a thorn in my side than an answered prayer. Still, I let him participate by giving him smaller tasks that'll only take me a minute to redo once he's done.

Negan knocks on the open door after football practice gets over. "Busy?"

"Just sanitizing my classroom," I smirk as I spray disinfectant on the desks, "Figured I'd take a preemptive strike, before cold season hits."

"In like three months?"

"Preparation is key to a lot of things," I inform him, "like having an emergency kit."

"There are some things you can't prepare for, I hope you know."

"Trust me," I breathe, solemnly, "I know all about things you're not prepared to handle."

"Such as?" Negan smiles.

"You," I reply right away, "Need something?"

"No, but I was about to offer to take the kid off your hands."

I scoff, smiling. "To help me out, or keep you from going home?"

"Well, I guess I'll just be on my merry fucking way, then," Negan looks over at Jolyon who's been listening, hopeful, this whole time, "Sorry, kid, but your mom's not being nice."

Jolyon gasps, looking my way. "Mom!"

I look at Negan with my mouth agape. "Don't try to make me out to be a mean mom!"

"Calls 'em as I fuckin' sees 'em." He grins.

"Please, Mom!" Jolyon pats my arm.

"Go ahead, Jol." I smile down at him.

"Yay!" He runs over to the door.

Negan winks at me, before following Jolyon down the hall.

Half an hour later, we walk to our cars to go home. Jolyon yawns as we stroll with our hands clasped together. "Thanks for being nice to my son," I tell Negan, "Even if you're a dick to me. I appreciate it."

"It's no big deal," He shrugs it off, "I like him better than I like you."

"Funny." I chuckle.

"Thank you."

We stop at my car and I unlock the doors, so Jolyon can climb in. "Alright."

"Alright." Negan repeats, sighing.

"See you Monday."

"See you."

 **...**

Lorelei's is not so bad during the late shift once you get use to the ghostliness of the place after midnight. I ate the rest of the pie straight out the pan with some coffee. I also found an old pair of roller skates in the back room from when they use to make the waitresses skate around the restaurant and parking lot to the customers. Thank god that was changed like ten years before I ever started working here.

Regardless, it's fun to skate around an empty restaurant to the oldies, especially since I did all of my duties and don't have anything else to do until six. I've fallen down a few times, not being the most graceful of creatures, but a few bruises on the ass and knees never ended the world.

Around three, I see a familiar truck pull in and so I exit the restaurant to go out to meet him. I skate slowly over, a little intimidated by the bumpy, gravelly pavement. Dwight comes around from the driver's side with his hands tucked into his jacket.

"Hi," I skate towards him.

"Oh, you're working tonight?" He asks, placidly.

"Yeah, Mindy asked for the night off to go to a concert in Richmond." I smoothly turn around right as he gets to me.

"Oh, cool," Dwight looks down at my feet and snickers, "What are those?"

"Skates, silly," I push myself on, "I found them on a top shelf in the storage closet and Louis said Leda wouldn't mind."

"And you know how to roller skate?" He smiles.

"Polish your peepers, Dwighty boy, because that's exactly what you're looking at."

"Don't be so cocky, Pip." Dwight laughs quietly.

"If you're bad than flaunt it," I giggle saucily, "And I happen to be one bad motherff-!" My rubber stoppers hit the sidewalk and I go down on my hands and knees.

"Shit, are you alright?" D lends a hand to help me up to my feet.

"Fucker," I finish, less arrogant, "Thanks."

"Sure, cool breeze." He lets me put a hand on his shoulder, so I can step up on the sidewalk.

"Don't you just love it when hubris is rewarded and punished with such expediency?"

"Where were you rewarded just now?" Dwight chuckles.

"I felt invincible up until now." I claim, opening the door to the diner.

Dwight holds it open behind me. "You felt invincible for roller skating?"

"Hey, it's the little things that build you up."

"Jesus, you're gonna break your goddamn neck!" Louis tells me, producing a first aid kit.

"Well, better on someone else's time than my own, eh?" I wink at him and open the box. I look over my shoulder at Dwight. "Know what you want?"

"Biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns, please."

"Coffee?"

"Nah, just some water."

I glance back at Louis. "I'll get the water."

"Smart ass." He mumbles, before shuffling into the kitchen.

I plant it on a stool and examine my scraped up hands. There's also some pretty decent cuts and scrapes on my already sore knees. I suck air in through my teeth as the rubbing alcohol pads sting my bloody wounds. Dwight just quietly observes.

"God, these are the kind of boo-boos I'd be cleaning up for Jolyon, not myself," I laugh after a few minutes, "Just the other day, he ran into the living room after I had just mopped and slipped and fell. He had a good size bump on back of his head for the whole day."

Dwight smiles, looking down at his hands on the table. "I bet he felt pretty invincible before that, huh?"

I laugh out, as I stick a band-aid to my knee. "If he's anything like me..."

"How'd the cookies turn out?"

"Delicious," I report with a grin, "I might have been a naive little girl in the tenth grade, but I've learned a few things."

He glances up. "You didn't set the smoke alarm off?"

"Nope."

Dwight reaches into his pocket. "Do you think I have time to smoke?"

I close the lid to the first aid kit. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay." He slides out of the booth.

"Mind if I come with you?" I carefully get off the stool.

"Sure."

I skate out in front of him to avoid the possibility of knocking into him. Feeling a little brazen, I whirl myself around and skate backwards.

Dwight snickers, slowly trailing behind me to the door. When my back touches the door, I push myself against it to hold it open for him. After he passes through, I skate off in the direction he's going. I fetch a cigarette from my apron and light it, rolling towards the side of Lorelei's.

I put my hand on the building and take baby steps in the dirt, until I'm a few short feet away from Dwight. It's chilly out and goose bumps whip across my flesh, but I don't mind. I take a drag from my cigarette.

"That was a really nice speech that Sherry gave the other day at your party." I lightly exhale.

"Yeah." Dwight puts his cigarette up to his mouth.

"Her sister's really nice," I add, "Sweet."

"Yeah, she's a good kid."

"What does she do for a living?"

D exhales smoke. "She goes to college up in D.C., but she works part- time at a coffee shop."

"What's she studying?" I ask, curiously.

"Uh..." He takes another drag, "I don't remember."

"Oh," I blow smoke from my lips, "Where were their parents? I don't think I saw them at the party."

"No," Dwight shakes his head, "They died about six years ago in a car crash."

"Jesus, that's awful." I wince, looking down at my cigarette.

"My mom kinda mothered them after that, so if Tina can't get a hold of Sherry, she calls her instead."

"You two are the only family they have?"

He nods, letting smoke exit through his nose. "Yeah, they don't have any other family, so I guess my mom and I are it."

"Well, they couldn't have asked for better people to care about them." I note, dabbing the end of my cigarette out on the wall and then flicking it.

I let out a breath, before treading lightly back towards the front. Despite being careful, one of my skates fumbles with a rock and I almost go down again. My hands grip the sleeves of Dwight's jacket as he catches me before I fall.

I look up at him, as I steady myself. "Thanks."

"No problem." He murmurs, letting go.

I chuckle, a little abashed. "I think I should put my shoes-" I'm interrupted by Dwight's lips softly pecking mine.

My eyes follow his mouth as he returns to his own space, then slowly trail up to his eyes. I feel as if they should ask a question, but they don't; they just stare back at his. I put my hand on the wall of the building and not a moment later, Dwight lunges forward, kissing me more deeply.

His hands touch the sides of my face, ushering me to lean back against the wall. I drape my arms over his shoulders, allowing him to come closer. Dwight's mouth passionately captures mine, causing me to almost slide off my roller skate clad feet. I kiss him back with the same desperation that I can hear in the breaths he takes.

Dwight takes his hands from my face and begins to explore my body. I feel his warm, calloused hand travel down the curve of my hip until he reaches the end of my uniform. I sigh through my nose as he touches my skin. He lets his hand move up the length of my thigh, catching the dress as his hand goes under it. I make a moaning sound into his mouth, as his fingers gently clutch the side of my panties, and I press my lips to his more fervently. Then, out of nowhere, Dwight breaks away.

"Shit!" He curses; removing his mouth, hands, and then completely backs away from me. D looks at me again with furrowed brows, touching the side of his head, like he doesn't know what came over him.

"Um..." I fix my uniform, peering down at the dying cigarette he dropped on the ground before kissing me.

"I have to go." Dwight says, stalking off.

"Dwight, wait!"

"I have to go home."

I tread as fast as I can in these stupid fucking skates, but by time I make it to the front, Dwight's already walking around to get into his car. I watch as he pulls out of the parking spot and drives off down the road. The bell tings inside and I hear Louis yell "Order up!"

 **...**

"When, Mom?"

"Soon, Jol." I tell him, driving slower than I usually do, which probably means I'm doing the speed limit, if not under.

Jolyon wanted to play some kiddy sing-a-long CD in the car. I figured after listening to my typical bluesy music on slow drive I took on the way to my parents' from Lorelei's, I could stand to be picked up, except the merriment is sort of annoying. After what happened with Dwight, I didn't want to go home, so I picked Jolyon up from my parent's house and we're driving to that pancake house that has the rude waitress.

"Mommy, sing with me!" Jolyon says from his car seat.

I sniff, "Okay, " I wipe the tears from my eyes.

When we get to the diner, we're seated in the same section as last time, but fortunately the cranky waitress isn't on shift this morning. A nicer waitress runs to get my coffee and Jolyon's milk. Jolyon occupies himself with the color placemat; drawing with the crayons he's breaking one by one. I just watch, not really having much else to do.

"Here." Jolyon gives me one half of a blue crayon.

"Thanks, baby." I smile, making little mindless hearts on the paper.

"Alright, now I'm starting to think I'm the one who needs a fucking restraining order," I look up to see Negan approaching my table, "Because this shit is just getting fuckin' weird."

"Really?" I croak, "Because we were here first and you just coincidentally show up? Suspicious."

Negan grins. "Mind if I join you?"

I shrug, then nod. "Sure, go ahead."

He sits down on the same side as me, making it a little bit of a tight squeeze.

"Hi," Jolyon smiles.

"Hey, kid." Negan smiles back.

"Where's your wife?" I ask, shaking the sugar into the bottom of a packet.

"Why are you always asking about my wife?" Negan snickers, before ordering coffee from the waitress who brings Jolyon and I's drinks.

"You always seem to be without her," I turn to give him a smart look, "Then again, I might not want people knowing I was married to you."

Negan smirks, looking my sorry complexion over. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

I shake my head, tipping a splash of my coffee into Jolyon's milk. "Long night."

"Oh," He growls, suggestively, "Tried your hand at dating again?"

"Mommy was working all night." Jolyon says while stirring his "coffee" with his straw. Negan's eyes flicker to Jolyon and then blink back to me for an explanation.

"I sometimes work at this diner in my town," I chuckle dryly, "Although it's not good money, unlike what you're thinking."

He laughs. "Then why not just do what you think I'm thinking?"

I tiredly smile. "Because I wouldn't be any good at it," I stir my coffee, "I'm not good company."

"You're not so bad," Negan reaches over for the sugar, "I mean, you're an asshole, but I like you okay."

The waitress comes by again, taking our orders, and getting a little shy and giggly when Negan smiles his order at her.

"Well, you're an insufferable prick with a motor mouth," I smirk, watching the twenty year old waitress walk away, "So you'll talk to anyone, even if they are an asshole. Even if they don't want to talk to you."

"Shit, especially if they're an asshole who doesn't want to talk to me." He chuckles, smiling at the waitress, whose cheeks redden as she pours water for another customer.

I clear my throat. "So, your wife?"

"She's not a morning person," Negan turns my way, "Especially not on the weekends."

"And you are?"

"I'm an any time of the fuckin' day person," He grins, "I wake up at five every morning and the sun shines out my ass all damn day."

"What's your secret?" I snicker into my coffee. "Drugs? "

"Sure as hell isn't whatever you put in your coffee at work."

"Cream and sugar?" I scoff, "I don't drink at work."

"Just the night before then?" Negan raises his brows into his forehead.

I look down at my coffee. "That's not against the school code of conduct."

"Mommy." Jolyon holds up a crayon. I smile and take the crayon, doodling little swirls. "Here," He hands one to Negan.

"No...private parts." I warn Negan.

He chuckles under his breath. "Gotcha."

When we're done eating, the waitress brings us our separate bills. Negan gets up to take a leak, but leaves money down. The bubbly waitress returns promptly and comes back with our receipts before Negan gets back from the bathroom. As I'm getting some money out for a tip, I notice that she's left her number on his receipt. I roll my eyes and take it off the little plastic tray, crumpling it in my hand, and tossing it on the floor under the table.

Negan comes back and sticks some dollars down as a tip. Jolyon and I walk out with him to the parking lot.

"This was fun."

"Eating breakfast?" I scoff with a smile, "Don't make a joke about it being the most important meal of the day."

"Well, now I don't know what to fuckin' say." He chuckles.

"It was fun." I buckle Jolyon into his car seat.

Negan smirks, scratching his five o'clock shadow. "I better go; Lucille's probably awake by now."

"Have a good weekend." I meekly smile, waving as I go to my side of the car.

 **...**

My eyes keep glancing over at the clock on the wall. I've been out of sorts since very early Saturday morning, but as I stand before my students, I keep finding myself losing my train of thought. My stomach feels like a bundle of nerves, twisting around as I wait to dismiss the class for lunch.

Finally, the bell rings and everyone puts their work away in their backpacks. I watch impatiently as they lazily leave. Ravinder stays, because the book club's going to meet in here today. I wait a full ten minutes for all the other club members to come in.

"Hey, Ravinder," I call her over, "I'm gonna step out for a few minutes to get some coffee."

"Okay." She nods.

"Okay." I smile, before leaving.

I walk down the halls, maneuvering around students as casually as possible. Lourdes comes from around a corner, hanging up her phone.

"Hey," She smiles, "I was just about to come find you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Lourdes tucks her phone in her purse, "Wanna get something to eat?"

"Oh, I actually have book club going on in my room." I apologetically smile at her.

"Oh, too bad."

"Maybe tomorrow?" I suggest.

Lourdes nods, "Okay."

We go our separate ways and I look over my shoulder to see her head out the front entrance. Right before I turn the corner where the locker rooms are located, I glance back again to make sure that no one is around. The blinds of his office are drawn, but I still tread up to his door. I listen for a minute to see if he's alone and once I've concluded that he is, I knock on Negan's office door.

"It's open." He claims from inside.

I open the door and go in. "Hi."

Negan smiles. "Well, hello, there," He scoots back from his desk, "I was about to come to you, 'til I remembered you had nerd club going on today."

"I told them I was stepping out."

"To come see little 'ol me?" He beams.

I smile back, closing the door behind me. "Yeah."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's installment! Thank you all for reading!**

 **Just a head's up: Starting next week, I will only be posting one chapter a week instead of two, because of school starting up again. The chapters may therefore be longer, but is entirely at the mercy of how busy my schedule becomes.**


	11. Chapter 11

Negan's smile ebbs as I lean back on the door, closing it. I let my back rest against it, waiting for either myself or him to make the next move. He turns in his chair, eyeing me up for motive. I step forward and go over to him and his dimples. I stop just before I bump into him, keeping my knees from touching his. Negan's legs are parted already, so I lean in; putting my knee down on the available part of the swivel chair and allowing his hands to move from the arm rests to my hips in the process.

I place my hands on his shoulders, only looking into his piercing eyes for a split second, before inclining to put my mouth down on his. He doesn't stop me. I imagine it's not in him to turn down any woman who stepped into his office with the intent on doing this. Rather, he becomes a gladly willing and encouraging kisser. I swing my other leg to the outer side of one of his, which lets me bring myself up more onto his lap.

Negan pulls away. "This chair isn't all that fuckin' sturdy," He smiles, "We might have to take it to the desk."

I look him over, before backing away from him and his chair. I take two steps backwards to the cold metal desk where I stick the palms of my hands down, pushing myself up to sit on the desk calendar. My hand caresses up my thigh, lifting my skirt and exposing my underwear to him. Negan peers down at the meeting between my thighs, then trails up to my face.

"I'm not gonna come over there to be fuckin' pushed away again, am I?" He asks with a smirk.

I scoff, "No, but I have to get back to my club meeting before too long, so I'd hurry up if I were you."

Negan's grin spreads, revealing a devilish set of near perfect teeth. He abruptly stands, taking a one long-legged stride to me, and puts his hands on his desk near the outer sides my hips as he hungrily kisses me. I find the waist of his sweats, slip my hand below the elastic, and delve into the slit of his boxer briefs. Negan groans as my hand wraps around his penis that's already at half mass. The both of us pull me closer to the edge of the desk, until there's no obstacle between him and I.

Sitting, I fumble with getting my panties down, while Negan opens the drawer under me. He shoves some things around until he finds what he's looking for and then shuts the drawer with a nudge of his knee, tearing open a condom. I shake my head, annoyed that he fucking just has one lying around amongst paper clips. He drops his drawers and rolls on the condom, before bringing me in by the hips.

I shut my eyes and moan with my mouth closed, as I feel him penetrate me. He leans down and takes my mouth with his.

I try to keep my composure as he thrusts in and out with a steady motion. It's been awhile since I last had sex, so maybe it's that or Negan that makes me feel so desperate. Negan's fingers press more into my hips, moaning as he continues at it and occasionally planting hot lips on my neck and décolleté. My short fingernails lightly dig into his t-shirt clad back.

"Easy tiger," He shrugs them loose, kissing behind my ear, "I can't take home claw marks."

I hook my arm around his neck to get closer, if that's even possible at this point, because I can feel myself close to coming. I rock my hips back and forth with his movements, until everything intensifies and heightens inside. Negan speeds up and it only takes a few good thrusts to get my body to seize up in climax.

Heat spreads across my face, as I softly moan out while he keeps going. I pant heavily against him, coming down through the feel good aftermath. Negan grunts, stilling his hips for a moment, and then bucking slowly two or three more times before stopping. He gives me a breathy kiss on the lips, and then pulls out of me.

"Damn," Negan huskily chuckles as he catches his breath, "That was a hell of an afternoon pick-me-up. What made you change your mind?"

"About you?" I snicker, also gathering my breath. "What makes you think I have?"

"You're here sitting on my desk with your pussy in plain view."

I tuck some hair behind my ear, then place both my hands on each knee. "Yeah, well, I'm a few chapters behind in book club and I didn't want to look like a fool."

"So, you came here?" He laughs, pulling off his condom and throwing it away. "You did the right thing."

I stand up to fix my underwear as step one of getting myself in order to finish out the workday. Negan pulls his pants back up and sits down in his chair, watching me smooth out my skirt. He uses his leg to roll the chair closer my way. His hands slide under my skirt and squeeze my butt cheeks.

"Stop it." I cackle, pushing his hands off.

"Are you gonna be here after work?" Negan inquires, smirking up at me.

"Aren't I always?"

"Practice gets over at four-fifteen."

"Easy _tiger_ ," I lightly pat the side of his face, "I think you forget that I have a kid."

"Okay, fine," He takes my hand and puts his mouth to the palm, "I can pencil you in for lunch tomorrow."

"Sorry, Lourdes and I are having lunch tomorrow." I nudge his leg with mine to get past him.

"What about Wednesday?"

"I don't know," I shrug my shoulder, "You don't want to leave the regulars hanging, do you?"

Negan's hand reaches out and grabs my arm, causing me to look over at him. "You're not gonna fuckin' give me the silent treatment again, right?"

"No," I shake my head, "But I don't want you to think that you can add my name to the roster, either."

He chuckles. "Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it, baby."

"I'm sure you're very good at convincing Lara, or Claire of that," I look over at the clock on the wall for the time, "But this head isn't just for show."

"When can we do this again?" Negan inquires, almost boyishly.

I glance back at him from the corner of my eye and smirk. "I have to get back to my classroom."

 **...**

I lean on the doorframe of the bathroom, watching Jolyon brush his teeth at a snail's pace. He stands up on the kiddy stool, carefully giving each tooth a little TLC because I'm here making sure he does.

"Okay, spit."

Jolyon spits into the sink and then runs his toothbrush under the water. "Done!"

"You still gotta rinse." I tell him.

"Okay." He takes the little cup next to his toothbrush holder. He then pours some water into his mouth, swishes it, and spits. "Now?"

"Yep, good job."

We go to his bedroom, so that I can tuck him into bed. Jolyon crawls under his blankets and his feet fidget as he kicks off his socks, because he hates sleeping with them on. He puts a finger in his mouth and rubs one of his front teeth.

"Mommy, I missed this one."

I laugh sleepily. "You did not."

"Yuh-huh," He points to the tooth, "This one feels dirty."

"I saw you brush them, punk," I situate his blanket just below his armpits, "We are not going back to brush it."

Jolyon nods his head, picking up a storybook he set on the floor the night before and opening it to look over. "Hey, Mom?"

"Hey, Jol?" I brush a hand over his natural curls.

"You want to read this for me?" He offers me the book.

"Sure, but just a little bit, because you have to go to bed." I take the book and turn it to look at the front cover. It's a kid book on...photosynthesis? "Where'd you get this, babe?"

"He gave it to me."

"Oh." I nod, opening it back up to the first page.

I really shouldn't be surprised. This is the kind of book he would give Jolyon. Bit of a science nerd and by bit I mean a complete fucking science nerd. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you don't see me giving Jolyon little picture books of a condensed Wuthering Heights. Whatever, I guess it's good to ignite kid's interests in these things early and I do owe Jolyon's precociousness to him for that.

After Jolyon's gone to sleep, I dog-ear the book and leave. Once in my own room, I get out my phone and think about calling him. It's only nine here, which means it's eight back in Houston where he lives, so I bet he'd answer if I did. What would I say though? Him and I aren't exactly friends. In fact, if it weren't for Jolyon, I would probably never even talk to him again.

I plop down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, thinking about what happened at lunch. I thought I would feel guilty, but I don't.

 **...**

Lourdes takes me to a little deli for lunch the next day, but since it's a little far from school, we take it to go and eat in her room. Lara Calder, the teacher Negan was with when her husband came looking, passes us in the hall and kindly says hello. To me anyway, to Lourdes she gave a polite, but terse smile that makes me think they don't really get along.

"Whatever." Lourdes rolls her eyes as she fiercely strides down the hall to her classroom. I don't say anything, because it's none of my business, nor do I have interest in the gossip. I think it's safe to say that whatever the issue is, it's most likely related to the coach they once had in common.

Lourdes unlocks the door, letting me go in first. I pull a chair up to her desk and unwrap my reuben. "So, how was Virginia Beach?"

She looks up as she peels back the wrapping of her sandwich. "Hm?"

"I think you said Friday that you were going to Virginia Beach." I clarify.

"Oh," Lourdes nods her head, "It was okay. Simon and I got into a little argument, but aside from that it was nice."

I take a bite of my sandwich, knowing that she'll enlighten me on the matter in a few moments. Lourdes is like that; unafraid and unashamed to convey how she's feeling, or what's on her mind.

"First of all," She begins, "He brought the dog with us, even though I said that they wouldn't allow dogs in the hotel. So when get there, sure enough, they said 'no dogs', so we went to a motel instead. I mean, it was a nice motel with a pool, but still, you know?"

"Yeah." I softly agree.

"And then, he tells me that he has to go meet up with this...guy, no sé, like a partner or something, so he leaves me at the motel for like two hours."

"That sucks," I snap open a can of cola, "Did you go to the beach by yourself?"

"No, because he told me that he'd be right back!" Lourdes groans, shaking her head at her sandwich. "But they had a pool, so I took Cleo and sat poolside."

"Mhm."

"Well, there were these two guys that were also staying there and they came up and started chatting with me," She sinks her teeth into her sandwich, "You know, about stupid shit like sports, or it being a nice day."

"So?" I inquire mildly.

"I was just being nice, Pippa," Lourdes claims, "Simon came back and when we got back to the room, he accused me of being immature and flirting with them."

"That's what the argument was about?"

"Sí and when I told him he was being ridiculous, he said he wasn't going to discuss shit with me, if I was going to yell like a child." She swallows, but there's no food in her mouth. "Asshole."

"So, I guess your trip was kind of ruined, huh?" I offer a sympathetic chuckle.

"No," She shrugs, "We made up shortly after. Then we went to the beach, out to dinner, had some drinks, and went back to the motel to make up some more."

I smile. "I see."

"I won't go too far into detail, but Simon is...Ah, he's amazing! On that front anyway."

I laugh with her. "I'm glad the spat didn't kill your trip."

"What'd you do over the weekend?"

My smile diminishes, thinking about what I did and almost did this weekend. "Um, well, I took a late shift for one of the waitresses at Lorelei's and then Jolyon and I drove up this way to go to that pancake house that's in the shopping square, you know the one?"

"Yeah," Lourdes nods, "Negan and I met there once when I was...seeing him."

"...Oh?" I ball up the crunchy sandwich paper, casually.

"Mhm, it was sort of a last minute thing. He doesn't live too far from there and it's like never busy, so the odds of running into anyone are slim."

"Right." I nod my head in thought.

"It wasn't really enjoyable," She continues, "I think he got into a fight with Lucille or something, because the sex was quick and angry, and afterwards, he just left and didn't even stay for the food he ordered."

"Huh," I reply, before the bell rings, "Well, this was fun."

"Yeah, we should hang out more," Lourdes smiles, "Maybe we could go out sometime."

"Yeah, sure." I grin back.

 **...**

"I'm tired!" Jolyon whines as we stand in line at the pharmacy.

"I know you are, but we have to wait a little longer." I warmly squeeze his hand.

"'Til we get to the front?"

"Yep."

He wraps his arms around my legs. "When will that be?"

"Once the three people ahead of us get their medicine," I answer, putting a hand to his head, "Want me to pick you up?"

"No," Jolyon shakes his head against me, "Mommy?"

"What?"

"Are you sick?" He looks up.

"No, I'm not sick." I assure him.

"How come we have to get some medicine?"

"Well, because Mommy has to get some more vitamins." I say, not wanting to explain what birth control is to my three year old.

"Can I have vitamins?" Jolyon inquires.

"Not these vitamins, baby." I chuckle.

"Why?"

"Because these are only for Mommy."

"Why?" He asks again.

I sigh, tiredly. "Because I said so."

"Can you ask the lady for vitamins for me, too?"

"I'll think about it."

The pharmacist goes into the back to get my pills and returns promptly. "Do you know how to use these?"

"Uh, yeah," I reach into my purse to get my wallet out.

"Are you sure?" She asks, a little stiffly. "You seemed unsure."

"Nope, I know how to take 'em." I hand her my card.

"It's no problem, if you need me to go through it with you."

I give her a mundane look, as she hands me my receipt and debit card. "No, I'm good, thank you."

"It's really important to-"

"Look, this is a refill, I'm in my thirties and while I do have a kid, I assure you that I know how birth control pills work," I take the bag off the counter, "Have a nice day. Come on, Jolyon."

I start to leave when I halt in place, surveying the sides of me in search of Jolyon. Then I check behind me, looking up at the confused pharmacist. My head turns back around and I scan all that I can see from where I stand in the store.

"Jolyon?" I search, borderline frantic. "Jolyon?" I call louder.

"Over here!" He says back.

"Where?" I shout, before finding him down the candy aisle. "What are you doing?!"

"I was looking." Jolyon claims, sheepishly because of my tone of voice.

"What did I say about wandering off?" I ask, angry.

"Not to."

"So, why did you leave my side?" I put my hands out, one holding on to the bag. "You don't ever walk off without me, Jolyon, do you understand that?"

His eyes get moony and little tears start to gather. "Yes."

I exhale heavily, taking his hand in mine. "Let's go home."

Jolyon starts to quietly sob before we reach the exit, because he got in trouble and knows that I'm upset with him. I don't say anything, still a little frustrated, as I tote him along towards the parking lot. Out by the cars, he begins to cry and stops walking to do so. My shoulder's fall as I sigh with my hand across my eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because you yelled at me!" Jolyon wails, digging his knuckle into his weepy eye.

"I didn't yell at you." I claim, looking briefly over at some people witnessing this meltdown.

"Yes, you did!" He sniffs up tears. "You hurt my feelings, Mom!"

I get down on one knee and comfortingly put my hands on his arms. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, baby. I didn't mean to yell, okay?"

"He never yells at me!" Jolyon informs me, still upset.

"I know, Jol, I'm sorry," I rub his arm soothingly, "I just got scared when I turned around and couldn't see you."

Jolyon runs a hand under his runny nose. "You got scared I ran away?"

I chuckle. "Something like that."

"I'm sorry, Mama." He wraps his arms around me.

I sigh, carefully standing and then walking with him in my arms. When we get to the Jeep, I put him down to open the door and then realize his car seat's straps seem a little loose.

"How come you're crying?" A man's voice asks behind me, as I adjust the car seat. I turn around and see a man about my age smiling kindly at Jolyon, as he closes his car door.

"My mommy yelled at me," Jolyon tells him, "But it's okay, though."

"That's good to know." The guy snickers softly, before glancing up at me. He's got long brown hair, a beard, and an uncanny resemblance to a holy being I use to know. "Hi."

"Hello," I say back.

"How come your hair's so long?" Jolyon inquires innocently.

"Jol!" I chide.

The man laughs a little. "Because I haven't had a haircut in a long time."

"Sorry about that," I smile apologetically, "He's inquisitive."

"No worries," He put his hands in the pocket of his black trench coat, "You wouldn't happen to know where there's a good place to get something to eat, would you? I'm not really from around here."

"Oh, yeah." I point up the road. "There's a diner called Lorelei's up the road a bit."

"Thank you."

"Sure."

The man looks down at Jolyon, "Cheer up, kid." He then walks off towards the entrance of the pharmacy.

 **...**

As soon as every student vacates my room, I leave and lock the door behind me, which is policy. I tread towards the front to leave for the lunch period. I make it out to my car before I realize that I don't have my fucking car keys in my purse. I have to turn back to my classroom, but I'm afraid of what might meet there.

My feet hurry as fast my clogs will allow me. At the door, I pull out my bungee key ring that has all the keys I need at work strung along them and find my room key. I unlock the door, get in, grab up my keys, and get out. I jam the key into the lock and turn it to the right.

"Hey, there, colleague." Fuck.

I look over at Negan strolling up to me. "Hi."

"Where ya heading off to?" He asks, leaning his hand against my door.

"I was going to go to that taco truck." I answer blandly.

"Cool, I'll go with you." Negan follows me towards the entrance of the school.

"What makes you think you can just invite yourself?"

"You owe me for the last time," He jokes, " And because we're friends."

"Are we?"

Negan chuckles. "Are we not?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know if I want to get that familiar with you."

"Is that right? Because I feel as if we had a deep fucking connection the other day."

I speed up a little. "Really? Because I didn't _feel_ anything."

"That why there's water marks on my calendar?" He fires back.

"Ugh, why don't you go to hell?" I trot down the school steps.

"Save me a seat?"

I make it to my car and unlock it, getting into the driver's side. The passenger's side opens and Negan climbs in, creating a momentary dip in the car. "I didn't say you could come."

He brings the seatbelt across his body and buckles it in, all while giving me his obnoxious smirk. "You didn't fuckin' say I couldn't come, either."

"It was implied."

Negan squints at me. "Implied?"

"Yes, implied," I nod my head condescendingly, "Like when I asked why you felt you could invite yourself."

"Why the fuck didn't you just say that you didn't want me to come?"

"It was implied," I answer.

"Fuck that," Negan scoffs with a grin, "If you have something to say, then fucking say it; don't pussyfoot the fuck around with implications."

"Right, because everyone's always straightforward." I scoff back.

"So, should I get out of your car?"

I eye him over for a second. "Nah, you can ride along."

We go to the taco truck, get our tacos, and then I drive back to school. I decide to stay in my car to eat and Negan doesn't seem too pressed to be elsewhere. We're quiet for while as we eat, which I thought impossible for him, but apparently he is capable of shutting his mouth.

"Lourdes told me something interesting the other day." I finally speak, looking his way.

"Oh, yeah?" He says, not wholly interested, or worried.

"...She told me her boyfriend took her to Virginia Beach this past weekend." I relay, deciding not to bring up the pancake house.

"What's so interesting about that?" Negan huffs with his mouth semi-full. "They have sex on the beach?"

"No!" I cackle, before taking a bite of my taco. "People don't have sex on beaches. That's just some fucking romance trope."

"Is not." He objects.

"Is to," I argue lightheartedly, "Think about all that sand...getting everywhere. No, thank you." Negan laughs and it encourages me to do the same. "They did have sex though, just not outdoors."

His laughter settles. "She told you that?"

I scan his curious expression. "Jealous that your old flame is getting hot and heavy with someone else?"

"Nope," Negan shakes his head, "Lourdes isn't an old flame. She's a coworker I use to have sex with."

"Why doesn't that make her an old flame?"

"Because old flames are people you cared about or some shit like that."

"You didn't care about Lourdes?" I ask, swallowing down my food.

"Not as much as to give her old flame status," Negan balls up the tin foil his tacos came in, "We had fun."

"Hm," I crumple up my foil, too, "What's the time?"

Negan checks his wristwatch. "We've got twenty minutes 'til the bell rings."

"Okay," I check my hair and makeup in the mirror.

"Wanna fool around?"

I laugh coolly. "No, I don't wanna fool around."

"Oh, come on," His fingers fiddle around with one of my curls, "Just a quickie."

"Do you have a condom on you?"

"No, are you on birth control?" He counter inquires.

I nod my head. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I'll have sex with you without a condom."

Negan looks out his window. "I could go get one real quick."

"By time you got back, we wouldn't have time, even for a quickie." I reply.

"Alright, what about oral?"

I huff, blown away by his tenacity. "We're not having sex, pal, so heel."

"Roll over," He quips back, "I'll give you a bone."

I stick my tongue in my cheek, trying not to chuckle. "You're an ass."

"Yeah, but you still like me."

"No, I don't," I look upon him with indifferent eyes, "Not even a little bit."

Negan eyes me up. "Then why did you come to my office Monday with the intention of getting fucked by yours fucking truly?"

"I had an itch that needed scratching and I wanted it done by someone other than myself for a change," I say nonchalantly, "I knew you wouldn't turn me down, so..."

"Are you implying that you fucking used me?" He asks, half-taken back and half-humored.

I smirk. "Betcha thought your charm and good looks finally wore me down, huh?"

Negan stares directly into my eyes with a half smile, silent for a moment, before grinning big. "Ho-ly shit."

I snicker softly. "You didn't exactly make it hard."

"No, although I am _hard_ in general."

"Yeah, but it's no big deal."

He chuckles. "Fuck you."

"Not until on your terms, sport." I fire back.

The bell rings behinds us and so I collect my purse and keys and get out of my car.

 **...**

Jolyon and I have dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets tonight for dinner. We watch some T.V., play with the cat, and then get ready for bed. After Jolyon takes a bath, brushes his teeth, is read a bedtime story, and finally goes to sleep, I step out to smoke before turning in myself. I can hear my phone ringing from outside, but I don't make haste to go answer it. It's almost nine o'clock at night, so whoever's trying to call can leave a message or wait until morning to talk to me.

The cat stands in the window from inside, watching me smoke and meowing to be let out. I bite the back of my thumb as I pace back and forth on the porch, occasionally bringing my cigarette up to my mouth, but mostly just letting it burn itself down. What have I done? What will I do?

I put out the cigarette and go back inside, resolving to have a little nightcap before I have to brush my teeth. I walk into the kitchen and pour myself some gin. My phone's on the counter by the cookie jar that holds anything but cookies, so I take it up and look at it. The number isn't familiar, but I see that it's got our area code and that whoever called left a voicemail. I press the button and hold it up to my ear to listen to the message.

 _"Hi, Pippa,"_ A sunny, but nervous voice greets, _"This is Sherry Rollins."_

What? I take the phone away from my ear and stare perplexingly down at the number, faintly hearing the recorded message. Sherry? How the hell did she get my number again?

The voicemail ends, but I finish off my gin and press the button to play it again; putting my phone back up to my ear.

 _"Hi, Pippa. This is Sherry Rollins. I hope you don't mind, but I got your number from Caroline, because I wanted to call you and invite you over for dinner on Friday. I know it's sort of last minute, but if you don't already have plans, I'd love for you to come over. Your little boy is also welcome to come over, too if you can't get a sitter. Okay, well, call me back when you get the chance. Bye!"_

I set down my phone and think for moment, pouring another little splash of gin. My thumb taps the call button that would dial her number in contemplation. It's kind of late to fucking call back, right? And what am I even suppose to say? I tip back my glass. Fuck it; I'm going to bed.

* * *

 **Alright, another week, another chapter! Hope it's to everyone's liking.**

 **Remember .Innocence: Thank you for best wishes on college! That was sweet of you and I appreciate it!**

 **CLTex: Lol Negan is def going to be trouble! I mean, how can he not be, am I right?**

 **Guest: The phone call is in fact from Jolyon's father. I'm being a little vague for now, but I'm also leaving hint after hint that readers can maybe use to find out who he might be... Glad you thought Negan was being a cad for wanting to go to his car lol!**

 **Dawn: No, thank you for being on team Dwight! (Even if it's only for my fics, lol) I'm happy you like Save Yourself and thank you so much for wishing me luck on school!**


	12. Chapter 12

_"Hold still."_

 _"I don't trust you."_

 _"Why don't you trust me?"_

 _"Because you aren't gentle, that's why not."_

 _I giggle softly. "You're full of shit."_

 _"I am not," He sucks air through his teeth, "Careful."_

 _"Stop being such a baby, Rollins."_

" _Look, just don't yank it out, alright? I don't want you to- Fuck!" He jerks his arm away from me, holding the back of his elbow. "Goddamn it, Pip!"_

 _I snicker with a mischievous smile, holding a fishing hook up to view. "I got it."_

 _"Yeah and did you snag some of my fucking skin with it?" Dwight scoffs, trying to inspect the small, bloodying puncture in his flesh._

 _"Relax, man, it would've hurt more if I had gone at the pace you wanted me to go."_

 _"I didn't want you to rip a chunk of flesh out," He touches a finger to it, "Did you?"_

 _I shove his shoulder a little, before getting up from the beach towel. "No, you're still in one piece. Come over to the water."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"To wash it out, dummy."_

 _He stands up and walks over to me by the river's edge. I scoop up some water with my hands, bringing it up to his elbow, and releasing it over the blood. Dwight winces the first time, but not when I repeat the process again and then a few more times until the blood is cleaned off his arm._

 _I lightly brush a wet hand over the wound. "There."_

 _"Is it clean?"_

 _"Mhm." I lazily wander back to our spot and plant it._

 _D does the same shortly after. "It's getting late."_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"We should probably head back soon." He adds._

 _"Yep." I wrap my arms around my legs, looking out at the river and trees, "Did you hear about that fight today at school?"_

 _"Kinda," He replies, still looking over his elbow, "What happened?"_

 _"I guess Janna Leone wrote something mean about Sarah Wallis on the bathroom stall."_

 _"What'd she write?"_

 _"That Sarah let some guys from the football team take turns touching her tits," I inform him with a chuckle, "Like bare titties."_

 _"Tch, that's a lie." D furrows his brows._

 _"That's what I said," I laugh, "Janna's just mad, because Ryan broke up with her and started dating Sarah."_

 _"Right and I doubt anyone on the football team would keep it a secret, if it were true."_

 _"Yeah," I agree, resting my head on my knees, gazing at him, "Would you keep it a secret if I let you touch mine?"_

 _"I have touched yours."_

 _"No, I mean like...bare tits?" I softly inquire. Dwight stops what he's doing and looks over at me, lowering his arm. I gaze back. "Would you tell people?"_

 _He shakes his head. "No."_

 _I sit up, turning myself his way. "Do you want to?"_

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sherry?" I reply, while groaning internally because she answered.

"Yeah," She says back, "Is this Pippa?"

"Yeah, it's me," I crouch down, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, as I tie Jolyon's shoes,"I just got your message about Friday night."

"Oh, great! Can you make it?"

I open the front door so we can leave the house for work and daycare. "Um...yeah, I can come. What time?"

"How does six sound?" Sherry asks. I can hear a shower running in the background.

"That sounds perfect." I lie, fastening Jolyon into his car seat.

"Awesome! I've been meaning to have you over for awhile now, but D's usually gone Friday nights."

"He works late?" I inquire, pretending I don't already know that.

"Yes, he doesn't usually come home on the weekends until early Saturday mornings, but I finally pinned him down," She jokingly chuckles, "Well, I'll see ya then, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." I answer.

"Okay, bye, Pippa!" She hangs up.

"Bye." I toss my phone into my purse and start the car, tapping my index finger to the steering wheel.

 **...**

There's a meeting after school today, which means I have to bring Jolyon and prey to high fucking heaven that he won't be too disruptive. When we get into the boardroom, Jolyon immediately asks if we can sit next to his new pal, Negan, whom he didn't get to see yesterday because I decided not to stay after work after our little chat in my car. I shush him and quietly maneuver us over to a chair on the left of him.

"Hey, champ, long time, no see." Negan smiles at him. "How's it going?"

"Mommy yelled at me the other day," Jolyon relays, "And made me cry, because she hurted my feelings."

"That seems like something she'd do." Negan's eyes blink up to me.

"It's okay, she got scared that I ran away." Jolyon explains innocently.

"We were in a store," I tell Negan, although I'm not sure why, "I turned around he was gone."

"Mommy had to get vitamins that only she gets to have. I'm not allowed to have them."

"Hey, Jol, why don't you take out your coloring book and color under the table?" I unzip his backpack and pull out the book and some crayons.

"Okay."

"Just stay by my feet only, alright? Or else you might get stepped on." I smile as he sits right at my feet, before looking back at Negan. "What?"

He gives me the up and down with his eyes, then smiles. "Nothing."

"No, really, what?" I scoff.

"Hey!" Lourdes comes over, greeting me and only me. She sits down next to me. "This oughta be good."

"Why?" I ask.

"Diane told me that the school board is not too happy with the grade average this quarter."

"Oh," I nod, "But the quarter's not over yet."

"It's not that big of a deal," She claims, rolling her eyes, "They're always a little wonky first quarter and then they bolster for the rest of the year. The district's just worried they won't get raises at the end of the year. We're the ones that have to put in the effort and they get rewarded for it. " She scoffs, looking at Negan. "Glad our backs can provide such good elevation for them."

Negan turns in his chair, staring back at her with a smirk. "Yeah, especially yours, since we know it's fucking sturdy."

"Go fu-" Lourdes stops herself when the principal walks in. She instead gives him a fierce glare, which he responds to with a humored grin.

The meeting is about just what Lourdes told me beforehand. Mr. Coolidge blandly gives us the lowdown, making it clear that neither he, nor the district is blaming anyone in particular. Jolyon's pretty good through the whole thing, occasionally tapping my knee to get my attention. When I discreetly glance beneath the table to see what he wants, it's usually just to show me what he drew, or to wave hello. Lourdes tunes it all out, looking off around the room, or down at her phone.

Negan, like Lourdes, doesn't appear to be interested in what's being said either. At least the others are trying to act like they care. Negan's just slowly rotating his chair side to side, while clicking his tongue every once in awhile in boredom. He probably heard all this at home, since his wife is the superintendent. After a few minutes, he sits up and scoots himself forward, bringing himself to the table more.

Jolyon moves under me and as soon as I feel him touch my leg again, I put my hand over his, clasping gently. Except...it's not his hand. These fingers feel too long and weathered to be his. That's when I realize it's Negan's semi-calloused hand that I'm holding. I calmly look over at his dirty grin, before shoving his hand off. I roll my chair to the side to create some distance.

"Ow!" Jolyon cries out as a wheel to the chair rolls over one of his fingers.

"Shit!" I push my chair back to get him. He emerges from under the table, crying and holding up his finger at me. I pick him up and stand to leave the room. "Sorry!" I mouth to Mr. Coolidge, as I exit.

"You...squished...my...finger!" Jolyon says between sobs.

"I know, honey, I'm sorry!" I set him down in Diane's chair at the reception desk. "Let me see."

"It's broken!"

"No, it's not," I kiss his finger, "It's okay, Jolyon."

"It hurts to bend it." He whimpers, calming down.

I kiss it again. "It's fine, I promise."

The rest of the faculty exits the boardroom. Diane comes over and pulls a lollipop out of the candy jar, giving it to Jolyon to make him feel better.

"Are you okay?" Lourdes bends down, wiping a tear stream from his face. Jolyon nods, while sucking on the candy. "See ya tomorrow." She smiles at me.

"Bye." I smile back.

"Bye, Pippa." Diane waves as she gathers up her purse and keys.

"See ya, Diane."

I straighten up. "Ready to go home?"

"Yeah." Jolyon says.

"You forgot these." Negan comes up with my purse and Jolyon's backpack in his hand.

"Thanks." I take them, handing the backpack to Jolyon.

"Any chance there's reward for returning 'em to you?"

"Yeah," I nod my head, "The rewarding feeling of doing something good for another person."

"How about something better?" He chuckles.

I take Jolyon's hand and start to walk out. "Consider me not breaking your hand to be just that."

Negan grins wide, letting out a small laugh. "It turns me on when you say feisty shit like that."

"So take a cold shower." I reply, chuckling.

"Take one with me."

I snap a look at him. "You know what'll lessen your chances? Talking like that in front of my son, so keep it up."

"He's not even paying attention," Negan points out, "Right, kid?"

Jolyon doesn't respond, too preoccupied with bending his ran over finger. I roll my eyes and then give Negan a tired stare. "It still isn't appropriate."

"So...there is a chance of you and me knocking boots again?"

"I don't know, maybe." I open the door of my Jeep and Jolyon gets in.

"When?" He presses.

I curl my lip in annoyance, buckling Jolyon into his seat. "Don't you have better things to fucking worry about?"

"Mommy, you said a bad word." Jolyon whispers.

"Sorry," I quickly apologize, before looking to Negan for an answer, "Well?"

Negan shrugs casually. "Are there better fucking things?"

"Probably," I close Jolyon's door, "And if not, then at least focus on wetting your dick with someone a little more interested in you."

"You're interested in me?" He inquires with a grin.

My raised brow settles. "Only for my own selfish reasons and to be honest with you; I'm sure I can do better."

"And yet you fuckin' chose me, didn't you?"

"Well, like I said yesterday," I smirk at him before climbing into my car, "You were easy pickings, peach."

I slam the door close and stick my key in the ignition. As I turn it to start the car, the engine stalls a little before firing up. I really hope he didn't see, or hear that, because I felt pretty powerful just a second ago and now I'm a little stunted.

I forgot to set anything out for dinner, so I call Mom on the way home to see if maybe we can come over to eat there. I don't know why I even asked, because she barely needed me to finish my sentence before cheerfully telling me to come.

When we finally get to their house, Jolyon goes inside, while I hang back to smoke. My dad comes out right after my mom ushers her grandson indoors. He sits down next to me on the porch swing, quiet. I always use to think my dad had some type of magic to him. Or maybe divinity, like a god, because he always has this way about him. It's a wise quietude that makes you feel either really at ease, or on the verge of confession, because you know he has some idea about you, but you know he's not judging you.

He doesn't even have to say anything direct and interrogative. Dad just has to say something simple like, "How's it goin'?" and I feel understood and compassioned with to the point that I want to open up and tell all. I use to think it was magic, or grace, but now I'm older and, to some extent, wiser and I know it's just because my dad is a good listener.

"Rough day?" He finally speaks.

"What makes you say that?" I exhale smoke, staring off across the street.

"You just seem a little off is all."

"I haven't been on for a long time, Dad."

"That's true," Dad gently agrees.

"I got a call from Sherry Rollins, Dwight's wife, last night," I drag from my cigarette, "She invited me over for dinner Friday night."

Dad's silent for a few moments. "Are you going?"

"Yeah," I turn my head to look at him, "Do you think that's a dumb idea?"

He scratches the side of his eye. "Why would it be dumb of you to have dinner with old friends?"

I glance forward again and nod, understanding and disappointed. "Okay."

 **...**

Today's another day of putting my head down at my desk at lunch. I'm morbidly tired after getting some pretty shitty shut eye, or lack thereof, last night. Jolyon asked if he could sleep in my room again and while he didn't ask a million question until he fell asleep like usual, I didn't luck out on his feet kicking and laying across me. Sometimes, if he scoots himself close enough, one of his hands will take hold of my some of my hair, which occasionally leads to inadvertent hair pulling. Outside looking in, this is a very cute, tender hearted scene fit for a commercial, but let me assure you that I slept in reality last night and it fucking sucked.

Lourdes has ASL club today, so thank god she's too busy to ask if I want to have lunch together, although I could really use an espresso. About fifteen minutes into the lunch period, my door opens.

"Seriously," I grumble with my head cradled on my folded arms, "You need to stay approximately fifty away from me at all times."

"Sorry?"

I sit upright and spy Diane with a confused look on her face. "Oh, Diane. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Oh," She giggles, "That's a relief. Are you alright? You had your head down."

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," I smile, despite not having the energy for it, "Is there something you need?"

"Oh, yes," She hands me an orange flyer, "There's a staff potluck on Halloween and I know it's three weeks away, but Mr. Coolidge insisted I let people know ahead of time."

"Okay, thanks." I read over the paper and all it's dumb Halloween puns.

"You bet, see ya." Diane turns to leave and is almost hit with the door, as it opens more. "Oh, you," She says, displeased, handing out another flyer, "Here."

"Thanks, Di," Negan smirks, as she steps past him to leave. He looks over the flyer. "I'm not fuckin' going to this."

"I don't think you're necessarily invited," I murmur, laying my head back down, "But they have to invite everyone to avoid complaints to the school district."

"Did you get a little too heavy-handed with the sauce again last night?" Negan humorously chuckles, tossing his flyer in the recycle bin.

"Excuse the fuck outta you, I have only come in with a slight hangover once, so shut the fuck up with that, will you?" I turn my head to face away from view of him. "That's so fucking annoying."

"Jesus, take a fucking joke, why don't you?"

There's a screeching, dragging sound that makes it's way up to my desk. I lift my head up to find him sitting down in a desk he drug closer to mine. I can feel the bags under my eyes as I blink dully at him clasping his hands together in front of him on the desk, blinding me with a sunnyside up smile.

"Get out." I tell him.

"Oh, come on, Pip," Negan leans back in his seat, "Don't be an asshole."

"What do you want?" I inquire, exhausted. "Wait, let me guess. You want to know when we can have sex again, right?"

Negan raises his brows to his forehead. "I was just coming in here to shoot shit with my friend, who's kind of lousy as hell at being a friend."

"We're not friends."

"Man, you are such a bitch, you know that?" He says with a smile on his face.

"Why?" I scoff, "Because I'm not gonna hop on every time you come around? Because I'm not eager to be with you?"

"I'm not use to the rejection, admittedly." Negan chuckles.

"Yeah, well, you're not all that." I cover my eyes with my hands, letting out a deep breath.

"You alright?"

"Fine, thanks," I take my hands away, "Just tired is all."

"Maybe it's time to flip the mattress."

I huff. "I don't think it's the mattress."

"Then what is it?" Negan asks.

"None of your business." I answer with a bleak smile; "My parents are going to pick up Jolyon from Happy Hands on Friday so, if you want, we can do it then."

 **...**

Friday night rears it's ugly head and every mile and half mile has me contemplating cracking open the bottle of wine I'm bringing along as a gift to Sherry for having me over. I can't believe I agreed to do this. What the hell was I thinking?

I spritz some perfume on me to mask any hints that I let Negan have me on his desk three hours prior. I ran a wet wipe from my purse over myself afterwards to be on the cautious side. I also pop a mint just to settle my stomach.

I park where I did last time I was here. I look at their house that's lit from within behind curtains. I get out and stroll up to the porch lighted door, ringing the doorbell. I can hear Sherry call out for Dwight to answer the door inside. A few seconds later, the door opens.

Dwight stands before me with an aloof, causal expression. "Hey."

"Hi." I hold the bottle of wine nervously in my hands, still standing outside.

"Dwight, something's not right!" Sherry shouts from the kitchen.

Dwight looks back and then steps aside for me enter. As soon as I'm in, he closes the door and walks back into the kitchen where Sherry seems to be struggling by the stove. Dwight glances in the pan she's poking a spatula in.

"Did you put butter, or cooking spray in the pan?" He asks her.

"Uh, no, I forgot." She sighs, letting him take over.

"You're supposed to put something down." He mumbles.

"Hi!" She greets me with a smile, "I'm glad you could come."

"Yeah," I smile back, extending the wine, "I brought this for you. I don't if it'll go with dinner, but I was raised not to show up without some type of thanks."

"Oh, no, this is perfect, we're having fish!" Sherry reads the bottle. "Thank you."

"No problem." I grin, looking over at Dwight who's purposely focused on the pan.

The dinner that Sherry apparently attempted without Dwight's help is finished by Dwight. Sherry laughs, telling me that she usually tries to tell people she's a good cook, but since I've seen the truth, there's no use in lying about the fact that Dwight does majority of the cooking around their house. Dwight's fairly quiet the whole meal, only ever talking when Sherry asks him something, or makes a remark about how quiet he's being.

I'm a little subtle myself at first, but a few glasses of wine fixes that. Sherry and I talk about our cheerleading days and cackle over the funny memories. After dinner, Sherry invites me to the living room to have more wine and chat more.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." She says, before striding off out of the room and down the hall.

I take a sip of my wine, looking over my shoulder towards the kitchen where Dwight offered to do the dishes. Probably just so he wouldn't have to be in the same room in his house as me. Sherry returns with what I instantly recognize to be our senior yearbook.

"I found this the other day," She smiles, "I was doing laundry in the garage and the box it was in was down off the shelf."

"Oh, wow," I itch my eyebrow, "I don't even have mine in my possession."

"You tossed it?" Sherry gasps, as she gets on her knees by the coffee table.

I sip my wine. "Mm, no, my mom has it along with my bedroom exactly how I left it when I went off to college."

"Oh!" She laughs, opening up the yearbook. We both look through the pages and I'm somewhat glad that I'm a little drunk, because it lessens the blow. "You were so popular back then, I swear, you show up every five pages."

I look down in my glass. "I knew a girl in yearbook."

Sherry chuckles. "Here's varsity cheer," I lean forward to look at where her finger's pointing, "There's me and... You, right there."

"Yeah." I stare at younger Pippa whose glowing smile is real and careless. She wouldn't be smiling if she knew what would happen to her six months later.

Sherry flips through some pages, casually mentioning a few people she recognizes and what they're up to nowadays.

"God, I can't believe I went out with this guy," She points to a picture of the captain of the football team, "Do you remember Dean Casterly?"

"Yeah, I think so."

She rolls his eyes. "Ugh, what a loser. You know what he's doing now? Seven years for trying to rob a bank."

"No way!" I chuckle, drinking more wine.

"Way!" She laughs out, "It was in Waltersville. He didn't even have a gun, it was just his hand in his pocket!"

I almost spit out my wine in laughter. "Jesus Christ!"

"Right?" Sherry holds her glass up to her lips, flipping the page. "Oh my gosh, look!"

She indicates to a picture on the detention page, which was supposed to be funny and lighthearted. The photo she wants me to look at is of me and Dwight sitting in adjacent desks with big smiles on our faces.

"What were you in for?" Sherry giggles.

"We-" I stop when I hear the back door in their kitchen open and close, then footsteps. "We, uh...we ditched first and second period and got caught trying to sneak into third."

"Why first and second?" She inquires, humored, "Why not the last two periods of the day?"

"Because the Denny's in Little Water was giving away free grand slams that day, but only from six to ten and Dwight wanted to go."

"How funny," Sherry notes, "You guys went to prom together, right?"

"Uh, yeah, we did." I answer, suddenly downtrodden.

"Aw, there you are!" She opens up the prom page. "Look how cute!"

I glance down at the picture and my eyes flicker up when I spot Dwight slowly leaning on the entranceway.

"Oh, honey, can you make some coffee, please?" Sherry asks him upon seeing him.

"Yeah, sure." He goes off to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I guess I should have some, so I can home," I put down my glass on the coaster, "It's getting late."

"If you want, I can have D follow you to make sure you get home alright."

"Oh, no, that's okay. I don't want to inconvenience anyone."

"Nonsense, he didn't drink tonight, right, hon?" Sherry calls, looking towards the kitchen.

"What?" He yells back.

"Have you had anything to drink?"

"No." Dwight says and the smell of coffee blooms in about then.

"See?" She smiles back at me, "It's really no big deal. Besides, I'd feel better knowing you got home safely."

"Um, okay."

Dwight brings us two mugs of coffee ten minutes later, and then sits down in the armchair in the corner.

Sherry cackles at her senior photo. "God, that was such a bad look."

I smile at the picture. "I think it's nice."

"Please, some people are just not meant to have bangs," She continues, "Barnes, Barnes... There you are! Did you do your own make up here?"

"No, my older sister did," I claim, looking over the portrait, "I didn't start wearing makeup until after high school."

Sherry nods, turning the pages, "Look, D, it's you! Aw, you were always handsome. I always had such a crush on you...since the tenth grade, I think."

I force the rest of my sort of too hot coffee down my throat. "Well, I better call it a night."

"Okay," Sherry stands when I do, wobbling a bit, "Dwight, I told Pippa you'd follow her to make sure she gets home alright."

"Alright." Dwight rises and walks out of the room.

"Well, thanks for coming," Sherry hugs me, "This was fun. We'll have to do it again."

"Yeah." I murmur, taking in the alcoholic scent between us. I tread lightly, steadier than I would be without the coffee.

Dwight shrugs on a flannel and grabs his car keys from a hook. "Ready?"

I swallow the aching lump in my throat. "Yeah."

"Drive safe." Sherry tells the both of us, pecking Dwight on the lips, before walking off to go to bed.

We get outside and I wait for Dwight to lock the door, before heading to my car. He turns around and looks at me. "I could just drive you home."

"I can't leave my car here." I huff, rubbing my tired eyes.

"Sher and I can drive it back to yours tomorrow morning." He suggests.

"I'm fine," I put an assuring hand up, "You'll be right behind me."

I drive fairly even down the road, rolling down the windows to let in some cold air and playing some music a little more loudly than the hour might prefer. Occasionally, I straighten out if I feel like I'm not in the middle of my lane. Another tear producing song comes on, rolling hot ones down my face that chill against the night air blowing in. I swipe them away, feeling a slight sting from my mascara running and possibly getting into my eyes.

There's an abrupt honk coming from behind me and I look into the rearview to see Dwight's headlights flash twice. I get the sense he wants me to pull over, so I do. I dab a teddy bear tissue on my face to try and compose myself.

"Get out." Dwight scares me a little when he's suddenly at my window.

"What?" I rub the tissue under my nose.

"You keep swerving," He irritably informs me, "I'm gonna drive you the rest of the way."

"It's not that far, Dwight."

"I don't care, get out of your car." Dwight firmly demands.

"I don't want to leave my car here." I croak.

"I'll come back and get it for you, if you let me drive you home."

I sigh and nod my head. "Okay."

I get out and fumble a little, but manage to get myself into his car. Dwight shuts my door and then walks around to get in. After closing his door, he starts his car and drives. I glance at the sticky notes on the glove compartment with Sherry's handwriting.

"I don't understand."

Dwight looks briefly over at me. "What?"

"A few weeks ago in the grocery store?" I take a deep breath. "You said she wouldn't call me and then she invites to your party and now to dinner...and she's so nice. I don't understand...is she playing some sort game, like making fun of me, or is she just pretending like you and I didn't date?" I run my tongue across my dry lips. "Or maybe she just likes me."

He's silent until he takes the turn down my neighborhood. "I don't know," He sighs, "But you were wrong by the way."

"What?" I scoff.

"You told her that we skipped first and second because I wanted to go the Denny's," Dwight explains, evenly, "But it was you that wanted to go. I didn't want to ditch, because I knew we'd get caught and then my mom would take my car keys."

"You still ditched, though."

"Because you did," Dwight pulls up to my house and turns the truck off, "Here you are."

I reach into my purse and take the house key off my ring. "Here's my car keys, so you can get inside."

"Okay." Dwight takes them.

I hesitate to get out. "Hey, D?"

"What?"

"...Nevermind." I chicken out

I wander up to my door, struggle to get it unlocked, and then drop my purse on the floor by the bench where it usually goes. I shake my curls out from the bun I had them in and kick off my shoes, before padding to my bedroom. I peel off my layers of clothes and drop them in my hamper and on the floor close to my hamper. I drape on an old t-shirt and some shorts that the shirt covers.

After washing my face, I roam back out of my bedroom and into my kitchen. I find some leftover pizza in my fridge and set the box down on the counter. I hop up on available spot next to the box and eat the pizza cold. I work out the kinks in my neck as I chew, observing the bruise that's formed on the back of my left leg from it getting banged up against one of Negan's drawer handles.

I can't tell you how thrilled that fucker was to have me close the door to his office this afternoon when the basketball team left. I had to throw away my stockings, because he ripped them by accident, if you can believe that, when he hastily pulled them down for me.

It pains me to admit this, but the man is good. I won't ever give him that satisfaction of knowing, physically, or verbally. I have to keep my teeth sharp, otherwise Negan would just chew me up and spit me out. He looks the type, so better I devour him before he does me. Eat, or be eaten, you know?

I tear into my third piece of cold cheese pizza. I'm tired as all hell, but I can't go to sleep until Dwight gets back with my car and keys. Pip saunters into the kitchen, making his way to me, and snaking his tail affectionately across my dangling ankles. I pet him with my foot for a few minutes, until I'm done eating.

I hop off the counter and immediately feel lightheaded and nauseous. I take a dizzy step forward and then swing around for the sink, vomiting. Fuck. I empty my stomach into the sink.

"Shit." Dwight curses behind me.

"What are you doing?" I groan at him, gripping the counter. "You just enter people's houses?"

"The door wasn't even closed all the way," He scoffs, "And I had to give you back your keys."

"Yeah, well-" I hurl again before I can finish. My clump of curls are held back by Dwight, until I'm done. "Thank you."

"Sure."

I flip on the water to wash down the puke and then let the garbage disposal take care of the rest. Next, I cup some water to my mouth, spitting it out after swishing it around.

"Did you walk all the way back to my car?"

"Yeah." He nods.

"Do you want some water, or something?" I ask, going into Jolyon's bathroom for some mouthwash "How about some coffee and a menu?"

"I'm good," Dwight rasps, either not hearing my attempt at a joke, or simple ignoring it, "It wasn't too far a walk."

"You sure? You sound a little hoarse." Without an answer, I spit out the mouthwash and barefoot it back into the kitchen.

I pick a glass out of the cupboard and turn the sink on. When the glass is three quarters of the way occupied with water, I shut the sink off. I turn around to see him lingering in the doorway between the kitchen and front door.

"Here." I offer him the glass from where I stand by the sink.

D looks from my eyes to the glass, in contemplation, and then back to my eyes. He then cautiously approaches like I'm some kind of witch, luring him in.

Dwight takes the glass of water from me. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." I watch as he drinks down the water from the glass until it's all gone.

"Here." He hands me back the glass, wiping his upper lip.

"Thanks." I flip on the sink and get a splash of water. I drink it gone and then set the communal glass in the sink. My sight goes back to him. "Well, I guess you should head home."

"Yep."

I exhale. "Thanks again for bringing me home and tell Sherry I had a good time."

Dwight nods. "I will."

"Okay, then," I clear my throat, "Formalities covered."

He nods his head, quietly, again. "Yeah."

"I'll walk you to the door, so I can lock it."

"I left your keys on the table."

"That's fine." I grin bleakly, tiredly, as I trudge over to the door.

I open the door, letting in a chilly wind. Dwight fishes out his own keys from his pocket, glancing down at the floor.

"Goodnight." I say.

"Night."

Just before he fully exits, I gently pause him with my hand on his arm. "D, wait."

He looks my way with eyes just as worn out as mine. "What?"

"Can we forget about what happened at Lorelei's?" I ask.

Dwight moves his arm, sighing. "I don't think so, Pip."

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing."

"Yes, it was," I beseech, "It was late and we were both tired and-"

"I still have feelings for you, Pippa." He interrupts, frustrated.

I stand, stunned by his confession; mouth agape and speechless. My eyes blink, heavy and docile as I try to make sense of what he just said.

"You do?" I finally rasp out.

"Yeah, I do." He confirms, barely audible.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Why do you think?" Dwight scoffs, stepping out out my home and onto the porch. "I gotta go, I'll talk to you later."

I slam the door and lock it. I return to the kitchen where the gin's at, not bothering to get a glass. Then, I slink to the living room and lay down on the couch, fighting back an aching throat and rising tears. Pip leaps up and curls into a ball on my stomach, as I close my eyes.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! I super appreciate it the feedback.**


	13. Chapter 13

I lethargically stumble from my couch to the hall in search of my phone that's pounding a horrid sound into my head. I feel like I've just crawled out of a grave. I dig through my purse until I find it, answering it before it goes to voicemail.

"Yeah?" I croak.

"Hey, honey!" Mom greets with an I-got-a-full-eight-hours tone of voice. "How was dinner last night?"

I clear my throat. "I'm gonna get in the shower and then I'll be right over, alright?"

"Okay, no rush," She agrees, lightly, "How was dinner?"

"I'm gonna let you go, so I can shower, Mom." I hang up and drop my phone back into my purse.

I drudge to my bathroom and take a look at myself in the mirror. Ew. My eyes are puffy and raccoon-like. My lips are dry and my complexion looks sallow like death warmed over. The night's events hit me with each thumping pang inside my head. When I can't look at my reflection any longer, I step into the shower.

The water beats me like the sorry shit that I am right now, but the warmth and steam feels good. I linger under the stream for a long time. I know I need to grab the shampoo, or body wash, so that I can wash up and go get Jolyon, but I feel like I can't move. Or I don't want to. I stare blankly at the tile on the wall, playing and replaying last night over and over. My face contorts as I begin to cry.

 **...**

Monday morning, Negan pulls into his parking spot, as I nurse my Sunday hangover in the back of my Jeep with coffee, an egg sandwich, and sunglasses that make the morning sunlight seem forgiving. He looks like maybe he didn't sleep well, working his shoulders back and turning his neck left and right. I watch as he shuts his car door with a little more force than it takes, before walking off.

"Morning." I greet, sitting on the edge of my trunk.

Negan glances my way. "Morning."

"Why the long face?" I inquire, taking a bite from my sandwich.

"Slept like shit." He answers bluntly.

"Aw, did someone sleep in the dog house?" I feign pity.

He scoffs, looking me over. "Shit, I bet your town thought there was a goddamn prohibition after you dried out all of the fuckin' liquor stores."

"Fair enough," I tip back my coffee, "What are you doing at lunch?"

"Is that a trick question?" Negan's smile finds its way back. "Shall I just say that I'll be eating?"

I smirk, slyly. "Well, that's certainly a good answer, considering most people eat at lunch."

He approaches my car. "Not everyone eats out, though."

"Shame."

"Certainly fuckin' is," His knee nudges my leg, "So, am I having you for lunch?"

"Why, no!" I gasp wryly, as I push myself out of my trunk. "I have book club this afternoon."

"Step out for a minute." He closes down the hatch for me.

"Oh, honey," I snicker, "I don't think I'll need to be gone half as long as that."

"Fuck off," Negan laughs, "But seriously, come see me in my office."

"I'll be too busy."

"Bullshit, they don't need you in there."

"I like to stay and listen in," I say as we walk towards the school.

"Why did you fuckin' ask what I was doing then?"

"Curiosity." I shrug, putting one foot on a step, before being halted by Negan's hand on my arm.

"You're fucking toying with me, right?" His eyes scan across my face.

"What?" I try to fight a smile. "I can't shoot shit with my friend?"

Negan sticks his tongue in his cheek, huffing. "You know what? I might have lunch plans after all, so I guess it's a good thing you'll be fuckin' busy with your fucking club."

"Oh," I pretend to pout, "You gonna get out your little black book?"

"You aren't all there is." He says.

"Is that what you tell your wife?"

Negan grows indignant, fast. He let's go of my arm and stomps past me on the steps. "Go fuck yourself, Pippa."

"Struck a nerve?" I chuckle under my breath, before tripping on a step and catching myself before I fall.

"Sober up, you fucking lush." He scoffs, without looking behind him.

I make a face at his back, because I can't really think of a good comeback. I pick up my purse and keep climbing. The bell rings, making my head feel like it's going to split in two.

At lunch, Ravinder and the rest of the book club conduct their usual business, while I grade some papers. About twenty minutes in, I stand up to go to the bathroom. I walk to the faculty bathroom two halls away, eating another breakfast sandwich on the way. The door's locked, so I wait outside, finishing up my food and responding to my sister's text message.

"Someone's in there?" Lourdes groans as she comes up to me.

"Afraid so." I grin.

"Ugh, every fucking time," She rolls her eyes, "How's it going?"

"Uh...fine, fine." I sigh, softly.

"Could be better?"

"Probably," I rub my arm, "How about you?"

"Good," Lourdes reports, playing with some strands of her long, brown hair, "I'm alone at home for the week, but that's nothing. Shit, come Saturday, I might not even want him home."

I laugh with her. "Away on business?"

"Yeah," She smiles, "Do anything fun over the weekend?"

"Um..." I sigh again, shaking my head, "It was suppose to be fun, but it ended up being a mistake."

"Please tell me you didn't go out on another date that fucking dumped you on the side of the road." She laughs.

"God, no," I chuckle slightly, "I had dinner with my old high school boyfriend and his wife."

"You thought that would be fun?" Lourdes scoffs, humored.

"I don't know." I laugh, thinking more about it. "It was a dumb idea."

Someone leaves the bathroom and I enter. As I'm washing my hands, I can faintly hear Lourdes talking on the phone just outside. She's speaking Spanish, which apparently Simon understands, for privacy. I took Spanish in high school and college, and am practically fluent, but I can't really make out what she's saying because she's talking so low. Something about "the dog."

I exit the bathroom, just as she hangs up. "See ya."

"Bye," She holds the door to go in, "Oh, hey, quick question."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any plans Saturday night?" Lourdes asks.

"Uh, I don't think so, no," I answer her, "Why?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe we can hook up, gets some drinks."

"Oh," I nod my head, "Well, I have to see if my parents would be willing to watch Jolyon, but that sounds good."

"Alrighty, let me know when you know."

"Okay."

She goes into the bathroom and I head down the hall to return to my classroom. On the way there, I see some girls giggling behind their hands, as they come walking from the direction of the locker rooms; one of them being Ravinder's sister, Nanda. I turn my head towards that way, but only for a second, before I stroll back to my class.

When the day ends, I don't stay after school. I pick up Jolyon from Happy Hands and we go straight home.

 **...**

The week goes by fairly quickly, because I haven't been staying after school. I took Jolyon to the park Wednesday. Jolyon wanted to play catch, so I brought my old softball glove and his baseball glove that bought him for his birthday, so we could after he hit the slides and swing, of course. Aside from going to the park, our routine is been pretty...well, routine. We walk the cat, have dinner, watch T.V. or play a game, Jolyon bathes, and then bedtime by nine, nine- thirty.

I asked my parents about Saturday and they agreed to take Jolyon to the movies. Mom told me not to feel bad about dropping him off, since I expressed that I felt like I've been relying on them too much lately; telling me that she's glad that I'm putting myself out there and making friends. Yeah, she's fingers- crossing it that I'll find a nice guy.

Friday, the PTA sent donuts to the staff, so I hustle over to the break room before only the plain, unglazed are all that's left. A student stops me in the hallway to ask me about getting an extension on Monday's paper. I give him the okay, since his grandma's ill, and then beeline around him as politely as possible to continue my quest to the donuts.

Alas, when I get to the break room, three or four other teachers exit, each holding a donut with frosting, sprinkles, or glaze. I come to the open door and am met with the image of Negan, of fucking course, taking the last good donut. The rest are just basic cake donuts.

"Hey!" I practically shout, before he takes a bite.

Negan turns to me with an annoyed look. "Fucking use your inside voice, Ms. Barnes."

"Sorry," I murmur, "That's the last of the maple?"

"So it would seem," He looks me over and then back at the box, before grinning, "Why? You want it?"

"Care to split it?" I ask.

"Nope," He chuckles mischievously, "But maybe you can persuade me to hand it over."

"And how might I be able to do that?" I raise my brow at him.

"You haven't come by my office at all this week."

"I'm sure you had your hands full."

"Sure, but I would have liked to have had my hands full with you," He moves closer, "Or in you."

"Oh, god, how do you not have to carry around a stick to beat off the ladies with charm like that?"

Negan throatily chuckles, "Doll, the only one's beating anything off is the ladies."

"Clever," I huff, glancing at the despairing box of unwanted donuts. I only had time to make Jolyon breakfast this morning and I'm starting to feel the void.

"How fuckin' bad do you want this?" The way he holds the donut, the frosting glistens under the overhead lights.

"Not bad enough to get carpal tunnel."

"Suit yourself." He goes to take a bite.

"Are you really that big of a scumbag that you'd want me to jerk you off for a fucking donut?" I scoff at him.

Negan lowers the unbitten donut from his mouth, smirking. "I might be."

"Forget it," I turn to leave the scene, "You can choke on it."

"Oh, c'mon, baby," Negan snickers, slightly muffled by what I assume to be the donut, "I was kidding!" He's one pace behind me. "Although, I don't fuckin' see anything wrong with a little bartering where we'd both get what we want."

"Well, considering you'd still have your dignity at the end of the transaction, I'd imagine you wouldn't." I retort, looking over my shoulder. That's when I notice he's got a plain cake donut with a bite mark in it, while the maple is still intact in the other hand. "Shouldn't you be going the other way?"

"Why? The fucking bell doesn't ring for another ten minutes."

"I'm not trading sex for a donut." I make clear.

"How about for something else then?"

I roll my eyes. "Like what?"

"We could have lunch together." Negan suggests, smiling.

"Lunch?" I stop at my classroom door. "Like food, right? Actual food?"

"Actual food," He confirms, "So, what do you say?"

"Fine." I nod my head.

"Cool," Negan gives me the maple donut, "You know where to find me."

The bell rings and he walks off towards the direction of his office and the gym.

 **...**

When lunch finally comes, I relent to leaving the safety of my classroom and journey to the coach's office. Half of me doesn't want to show up, because I agreed to it for a fucking donut. Even if there isn't sex being exchanged, it still feels like he's besmirched my pride. But the other half of me knows that my going to his office has nothing to do with the donut.

Since Monday morning, Negan and I haven't spoken and it feels weird. Usually, he finds his way to me like a fruit fly and pesters the fuck out of me. At first, it was irritating, but hey, he grows on you. I guess maybe if I'd stuck around after school, he might have come to talk to me, or Jolyon at the least.

As I pass the gym, I slow down a bit when I see Lara Calder walk down the hall to Negan's office. I stop by a trophy case, not sure of what to do right now. I don't feel jealous, or angry. I won't become catty and bicker with the other teachers the married coach is screwing. I don't have it me to fight over a man. No dick is that good. Plus, I don't want anyone knowing about him and I.

I hear some deep, cool laughter that's unmistakably Negan's, while Lara's lowered voice says something inaudible. Soon after, the sound of heels clicking on the floor has me walking in the opposite direction. Lara emerges from the small hallway, but I have my back to her, as if I'm treading away.

"Pippa!" She says behind me.

Fuck. I turn around. "Oh, hey."

"Hey," Lara smiles genially as she approaches me, "I have a question for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was wondering where you got those shoes." She looks down at my clogged heels. "I always see you wearing those and like two other pairs and they look so comfortable!"

I smile at her, mildly relieved. "I bought them in Austin, but I think the store has an online site. I can't remember the name, but I could get it for you."

"Cool, thanks!" Lara gleams, "See ya."

"Yeah." I wait until she's far enough down the hall, before I spin around back to Negan's office.

His office window has its blinds open and I can see a medium pizza box on his desk, half closed. I knock on the door, before I open it up.

"Hello, hello." Negan smirks, eyeing me up as I close the door.

"What did Lara want?" I inquire, going over to the blinds and turning them down.

"Guess" He chuckles.

"No, just tell me." I reply as I sit down.

Negan opens the lid to the pizza, offering me some. "She wanted to have sex."

I snicker at his candor. "Why'd you turn her down?"

"Because you and I made plans."

I pick out a slice of cheese pizza. "I wouldn't have cared if you needed to reschedule."

"Didn't fuckin' need to, didn't fuckin' want to." Negan leans in his chair, grinning at me.

"You passed up sex to have pizza with me?" I look at him, surprised, maybe even impressed.

"Sure did."

I glance down at my pizza. "Well, that was a stupid pass," I bite the outer corner of my slice.

He laughs. "So, I should've blown you off?"

"Probably."

"Maybe I didn't want to."

I give him a look. "Oh, please."

"I'm fucking serious."

"Right, hence the shit-eating grin on your face."

He snickers, licking his lips and trying to straighten his face out. "I missed you."

"I didn't go anywhere," I inform him, chewing pizza, "You know where Room 35 is."

Negan stares at me with semi- taken back expression. "Well, I figured you'd-"

"Come to you?" I arch my brow.

"...Yeah."

"Well, bit of advice," I grin lightly, "Don't wait up for me, Negan, because you'll be disappointed. Every time."

"I'll be fucking sure to write that down." Negan smiles, amused.

I scoff at him taking my words as a joke, as I finish off my crust. "You really missed me?"

"A little bit," He grabs another slice of pizza, "Did ya miss me back?"

"No." I shake my head, also getting more pizza.

"Fucking liar."

"You could only hope." I chuckle.

Negan reaches down into a mini fridge under his desk and produces two cans of coke. "Are you busy this weekend?"

"Why?" I snap back the ring to open the soda he offered me.

"Lucille's going to some spa thing with her friends up in Alexandria," He tells me, "She'll be gone all day."

I sip from the can, staring at him. "So, you want to meet up?"

"Yes, I do," Negan opens his soda, leaning back again in his chair, "Can you get someone to watch the kid?"

"No, sorry," I eat my pizza, "I'm going out with Lourdes tomorrow night."

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Lourdes?"

I study his irked body language. "Yeah, we're going out for drinks."

"Fun." Negan says, insincerely.

"Maybe it will be," I smirk at him, before drinking some more soda, "But I think her boyfriend might go with us, so we'll see."

"The drug dealer?"

I look up at him with gathering brows. "What?"

"Yep." Negan clears his throats, nonchalant.

"Have you met him?"

"No, but Lourdes told me some shit about him when we were still fuckin' around."

I'm confused. "...Lourdes and you were still having sex when she-"

"When she said she was done with me?" Negan puts his hands behind his head with a cocky, dimpled smirk. "Fuck yeah, we were."

"So, when did she finally end things?"

His eyes look up for a moment in thought. "Last March, I think."

"Huh." I nod, remembering that Lourdes said she met Simon in January and that she broke things with Negan in February. "And she told you Simon sold drugs?"

"Shit, no, I don't even know his name...well, until now."

I scoff. "Then where did you get an idea like that?"

"He's a 'supplier' but she wouldn't say of what or the company he worked for, he randomly goes out of town on business, makes his own hours, buys her nice shit," Negan laughs under his breath, "Do the math, honey."

"Yeah, I figured that, too." I smile.

"You've met him?"

"Yeah."

"What's he like?" Negan asks.

"Why do you want to know?"

He shrugs. "I'm nosy."

I chuckle lightly. "He's not all that different from you, I don't think."

"Meaning what?"

"He's an asshole," I report, "He's got a moustache."

"I don't have a moustache."

An impish smirk spreads across my face. "No, but it's something a girl takes notice of."

"And why is that?"

"Because guys with sleazy moustaches are good at oral."

Negan lets out a hearty boom of laughter. "Shut the fuck up!"

"It's true, look it up!" I laugh with him.

He throatily chuckles a few more times, covering his eyes with his hand. "Damn, you're funny."

"I have my moments."

Negan's laughter settles down and his eyes focus on me, piercing my gaze. "Change your plans. Meet me someplace."

I stand up and stroll leisurely up to his side of the desk. "That would be rude."

"So?" His eyes stay fixed on mine.

"So, I like Lourdes and I want to go out with her." My fingers shape behind his ear, as if tucking a strand of hair.

"Then let's meet up earlier."

"I told Jolyon we'd do something fun, before I left." I lean closer to him, putting my knee down in the same gap I did the last time.

Negan's right hand goes to my backside, copping a squeeze. "Bring him along."

I sigh, straightening up. "Dude, seriously? Name one place we can go to have sex with my toddler around."

"...Your house?"

"No, that's not happening." I back away, irritably exhaling, as I lean on his desk. "I'm not fucking you in my house, while my kid is playing in the living room."

"You fuckin' wanted me name a place and I fuckin' delivered." Negan rolls his eyes.

"I don't want him walking in on us," I cross my arms, looking off to the side, "I'd rather fucking die than have to explain that to him."

He shifts in chair. "I'm sure it wouldn't be that awkward."

"Says the guy who doesn't have kids." I huff.

"Says the fuckin' guy that teaches sex-ed to kids." Negan corrects.

"Teenagers," I correct his correction, "You teach to sex-ed to teenagers. There's a big difference between three and sixteen."

"Whatever."

I glance back at him, surveying his demeanor. "Lunch ends in fifteen."

"Yep." Negan sniffs.

I push the pizza box to the side and sit down on his desk. "Come here."

His eyes trail up from underneath my dress to my eyes. His smile picks up again as he rises from his chair. Negan stands between my legs, leaning down to kiss me. I take one of his hands, slipping it under my dress.

Negan chuckles, gruffly as he works his hand under my panties. He softly rubs my clit, causing me to close my eyes in sensation. I gasp out as two fingers enter me with help from my arousal. Negan slowly moves them back and forth, grinning at my reaction, which makes me snicker breathily.

He continues to work me over, as my hands undo his jeans. I find him in his boxer-briefs, smiling when his body stiffens up at my touch. For the remainder of the lunch period, Negan and I use our hands in tandem on each other. He drags his fingers in and out, hooking them slightly as he gets to the end. I feel like I'll melt literally in his hand, but I find some shred of control with each pleasuring motion. I stroke him up and down, sometimes unintentionally tightening my grip for a moment, when his fingers hit the spot, making him groan out a breathy chuckle.

Negan comes before I do, so I win. I try to hold out for a little bit longer, but Negan picks up the pace and uses some of my wetness to touch my clitoris. When I peak, I huskily chuckle as I try to regain my breath. Negan laughs as well, before putting mouth on mine, until the bell rings.

 **...**

I arrive at Lourdes' house around seven-thirty, which was the time we agreed upon yesterday after work. She asked if I wanted to go to this cantina style bar that she and Simon go to sometimes and I said okay, because I really had no location of my own in mind. Simon's car is in the driveway next to hers. That can't be a good sign. As much as I'd like to give him a fair chance, Simon just rubs me the wrong way. For Lourdes' sake though, I'll play nice if he tags along.

I walk up to her door and ring the bell, alerting Cleo to run to the door; barking. I look down at my outfit, consciously, as I wait. I just wore a simple, striped dress with my jean jacket.

"Move, move!" Lourdes shoos the dog away on the other side of the door. "Hi!"

"Hey." I smile at her beautiful, made up face.

"I'm ready," She assures, "I just need to take these curlers out."

"Okay, no pressure." I say, as she welcomes me inside.

"You look great!"

"Same." I chuckle a little as Cleo jumps up.

"Thanks," Lourdes tilts her head to the side, looking into another room, "Babe, come get your dog!"

There's a curt whistle in response that sends Cleo padding into the room it came from.

She takes out the curlers where she stands, setting them down on the table under a mirror by the door. "I hope you don't mind, but Simon's coming, too."

"Oh," I keep my smile on, "Yeah, that's fine." I fucking knew it.

"He'll behave." She whispers with a grin, as Simon comes in from wherever he just was.

"Well, hello!" He smiles brightly, putting his hand out. "Lovely to see ya again."

"Yeah." I politely shake his hand.

The cantina is some hole in the wall in downtown Southcastle. I've never been downtown before, since I don't usually explore before or after work. Nevertheless, it's what you'd typically think of when you think of "downtown." It's small, because Southcastle isn't some big city, but it's no less lively. There's old buildings that were once this, but are now that with streets that haven't been repaved in awhile. The sidewalks are lower than most sidewalks I've walked one and there are plenty of lights, cars, and people.

The place Lourdes takes me has an outside seating area that's, for the most part, empty with strings of pretty lights. We don't sit out there either, thank god; we go inside where there's warmth, music, and tequila. The three of us sit at a round, buttercup yellow table with turquoise painted chairs that look uncomfortable, but actually have good back support. A waitress that smells like vanilla brings us chips and salsa, takes our drink orders, and walks off. I catch Simon's eyes follow the pendulous swing of her hips as she goes to the bar. Lourdes doesn't seem to notice, as she scoops some chunky salsa onto a chip.

The ride over was a little strange. Lourdes did most of the talking on the way over here, which was fine by me, because all I had to do was answer back. I'm not usually a quiet, mousy person, but I found myself having difficulty engaging with Lourdes in the manner I'm accustom. It was Simon, I just know it. He was primarily silent as he drove, chiming in seldom, though not shyly. Every so often, when Lourdes would ask me something, I would notice his eyes look back to me in the rearview, as if waiting for the answer himself. Ours eyes would meet very briefly in those moments, before I would look down, or to Lourdes. I don't know why it rustled my feathers, but it fucking did.

"God!" Lourdes draws my attention from the curvy waitress. "After the week I've had, I think I well fucking deserve a strong margarita."

"Yeah." I chuckle softly.

"I had to give the same student detention three days in a row and it was so awful!" She makes a frustrated sound. "It's that stupid rule about cracking down on tardiness."

"Oh, yeah..." I look at the salsa.

Lourdes laughs. "You haven't written any dentations for that, have you?"

"I mean, what's two or three minutes?" I put my palms flat on the table in question. "Ten or more, I get, but being a few minutes late in the morning is no big deal."

"I know! If the school I went to didn't have a three minute grace period, shit, I'd have gotten expelled."

"Same here." I claim as the waitress sets down a classic margarita in front of me. "Gracias."

"De nada." She smiles, putting Lourdes' down on her paper coaster and Simon's beer and shot of tequila down by him. When she sees his eyes, her smile grows sheepish as she leaves.

"I heard Claire and her husband might be doing a trial separation." Lourdes informs me, apparently oblivious to what I just saw.

My brows knit a little. "What?"

She takes her coral lips from the straw in her drink. "Yeah, they're going through some major problems, I guess."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Diane," She says sprinkling some salt into the chip basket, "Claire told her and she tells me everything, so...yeah."

"Gossip." Simon puts his shot glass upside down, after just shooting back the tequila.

"I like being on the up and up; I won't deny that," Lourdes giggles at him, before turning her gaze back to me," Pero, she's got balls if she thinks it's Danny's fault their marriage in on the rocks."

"Do you think her husband knows about...him?" I anxiously side glance at Simon, worried that maybe I shouldn't say Negan's name out loud, given Lourdes' history.

"Oh, totally!" Lourdes scoffs, "I mean, maybe he doesn't know who exactly she's screwing, but I fucking doubt he doesn't have some idea."

I nod my head. "Well, why would she blame...Danny?"

"Because that's Claire for you," Lourdes rolls her eyes, "And besides, people who cheat always want to blame their partner, one way or another, so they don't have to face the mirror."

"I think those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, chica." Simon states with some humor in his tone.

Lourdes furrows her eyebrows at him. "Pardon?"

"You use to screw around with the same guy, right?" He raises his brows with a slow grin.

"Yeah, but I wasn't in another relationship at the time."

"Mm, okay." Simon leans back in his chair, drinking his beer.

Lourdes' tongue glides across her top lip. "I'll be right back, I have to use the little girl's room."

She stands up and swerves around some people, towards the back where the bathrooms are. I wish I would've gone with her, but now as she's out of sight, it seems like it's too late. My eyes blink back to Simon, who's staring across the table at me with a casual, yet unnerving look.

"So, how you likin' the job?" He asks.

I shrug, lifting up my glass. "It's a good school. I like it." I take a drink of my margarita, widening my eyes as it hits me. It burns down my throat and clears my sinuses. "Whoa."

Simon chuckles. "They don't use your mother's tequila here."

"No kidding," I clear my throat, before taking a lighter sip.

"I'd go a little slower, if I were you." He advises.

"You're not me, then." I arch my brow, saucily, as I pluck a chip from the basket.

"Alright," Simon takes up his beer glass, "Far be it from me to stop someone from getting knocked on their ass."

I scoff, while chewing. "I'm not a lightweight."

"Neither is she," He hikes his thumbs back towards the bathrooms, "except here."

I snicker lightly. "I can manage, thanks."

"Sure hope so."

I watch the few people dancing in the background for a moment, before looking back at Simon. "So, Lourdes tells me you're a supplier."

Simon cocks his one brow slightly, and then nods once. "Yeah..."

"What is it that you supply exactly?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?" I inquire.

"Depends on what's in demand." He responds, keeping a discerning eye on me.

"Ah," I nod, "And what's in demand?"

A half-amused grin tips up. "You tell me."

I look down into my drink, then back at him. "Got any pot?"

"Maybe."

"On you now?"

"Maybe," Simon repeats, "Are you looking to buy?"

"Isn't the first time free?" I huff.

"You gave your freebie back to Lourdes." Simons grins a toothy grin. "Besides, that usually only applies to the harder shit."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, how much? I've got twenty bucks in cash on me."

"You can have three joints, because that's what _I_ have on me."

"Okay." I tip back some of my drink, acknowledging Lourdes coming back to the table.

"Sorry, there was a line in the bathroom." She laughs.

"No problemo." Simon smirks, at me and then at her, before standing up. "I'll be right back."

"He knows about Negan?" I ask when he's out of earshot.

Lourdes huffs. "Oh, yeah! I told him about that prick ages ago!"

"Oh."

"Negan and I aren't a thing anymore," Lourdes claims, "I ended that in Ma- February."

"Yeah, that's...true." I eat some more chips and salsa.

"We're pretty open about that kind of shit, you know?"

"Past relationships?"

"Yeah," She nods, chuckling, "It's fun to hear about each other's sexual escapades."

I laugh under my breath. "I guess so."

"I swear, listening to Simon's is better than reading an erotic novel."

We laugh out loud together at her remark. My head turns at the sight of Simon coming back in. He stops at the bar to ask for another shot, before returning to the table.

"What were you doing?" Lourdes smiles.

"Making sure I didn't park in the red." Simon throws back his second shot.

"Did you?"

"Nope," He shakes his head, putting his hand into his jacket pocket.

I rise from my chair. "Excuse me, now I have to go to the bathroom."

I walk around the table, feeling a slight tug on my jean jacket as I pass Simon. When I get into the bathroom, I don't have to wait in line like Lourdes, since it's no longer as occupied. I close the stall door behind me, lift up my dress, and sit down. Mid-stream, I stick my hand into the pocket of my jacket and come into contact with the crackle of a small, plastic bag.

When I return to the table, I can read the not too happy look on Lourdes' face. I reach into my purse and get out the twenty-dollar bill I had floating around.

"Here," I hand Simon the money, "This is for gas."

 **...**

By ten o'clock, the night feels both weightless and heavyset. I should've listened to Simon and paced myself. I keep one of my suede booties on the stem of the table to prevent myself from sliding under. When still, I feel like I'm drifting between floating and sinking. It's like being drunk and hungover simultaneously.

"Hey!"

I blink dully at this random dude that shook my shoulder. "Hm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." I croak, trying to determine whether or not I blacked out for a minute there.

"You want me to call you a cab?" The man, who I now recognize to be an employee by the apron around his waist.

"No, I have my friends here." My eyes scan the cantina, looking for Simon or Lourdes.

I find them with the other dancing drunks. The music's slower than it was before, so they're pressed together, sensually swaying to the rhythm. Simon's hand rests low on Lourdes' back, while the other one is locked with one of hers. Simon doesn't appear drunk, or at least not as much as most here. His eyes seem to peer down at some unfixed point; the way eyes do when someone's listening to the faint words of the person they're holding close.

His mouth tips upward, just barely, and then he speaks, but I can't make out what's said from here. When their bodies turn, I can see Lourdes smiling at what I assume was said, because she tenderly rubs his back as she rests her head on his shoulder; whispering something more. It's a strange scene. The clothed intimacy of the pair.

I wobble as I stand up, putting a hand on the table to stop the room from spinning. I then stagger out of the cantina into the night. There aren't many cars outside and it's kind of spooky. The music from within the bar dies out the further I get from the door. I fish around my purse for my cigarettes, or maybe one of the joints I'm now the owner of.

I find my cigarettes first, so I pluck one out and light it. I lean against the old brick wall and smoke quietly by myself. My mind wanders to what I was doing last weekend about this time. And whom I was with. And what he said to me. And how he made me feel.

"Hey, baby!"

I turn my head to the left, closing my eyes because of the shakiness of my vision. When I open them again, the stranger is a little bit closer and still approaching.


	14. Chapter 14

The man stands about six foot two and has a pair of eyes that convey no good. His stare and his grin immediately make me uneasy, though I don't show it.

"You alright?" The stranger chuckles, stalking up to me.

I suddenly become aware of how fawn-like I am on my legs. "I'm fine," I exhale smoke his way, "I'm waiting for my boyfriend."

"Oh, really?" He snickers, skeptical.

"Yeah, really," I tell him, "And he's the jealous type."

"That's not good to be with a guy like that," The man puts his hand out on the brick wall I'm leaning on, "Legs like yours deserve better."

I scoff, flicking my cigarette. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Let me drive you home." He goes to touch my hair, but I swat his hand away.

"No, I don't think so." I start to walk back to the cantina that's door is a little farther than I realized.

"Come on, I bought you a shot, remember?" The man treads behind me. "We're friends."

"I don't remember that and we're not friends." I poke my hand down into my purse.

"Oh, come on!" He persists, putting his hand on my arm and tugging me back, "Let me-" The man lets out a howl as pepper spray shoots right into his eyes. "FUCK!"

Despite always being told to spray and then run, I stand there with widened eyes. I've never actually had to use this before and I don't think I realized just how strong in was. He wails and curses with his hands madly rubbing against his reddening eyes. I don't if it's because my legs feel like they can't run if I tried, or if it's out of awed curiosity that I stay, staring at this crying man. But I soon remember why I sprayed him.

"You should put some milk in your eyes," I cough, believing I felt some burning in my lungs, "It'll help wash it out."

"FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING WHORE!" He screams, sitting on the ground with his back to the wall.

I keep the pepper spray out just in case he comes back, as I stumble like a zombie towards the cantina. The dude's grief fades out the closer I get away from him. When I come up to the door of the bar, I sit down on a chair outside instead of going in.

I'm hungry and I want something to eat, but the cantina sent their cooks home around ten-thirty. I don't know what time it is now, or how much longer Lourdes and Simon are going to be. I want to go home. I want to go to bed. I don't want to feel crummy like I do now. I want the light to go back on. Not eventually, right fucking now.

Two ladies burst out of the cantina, laughing outrageously and holding each other up. My eyes follow them as they clumsily walk to a car in the back of the lot. Across the street is a bank that's parking lot is empty, but lit up from the streetlights. I get up and straggle on over with no cognitive reason for doing so. The sound of my heeled booties drudging and occasionally scraping against the asphalt is all I hear was I continue to wander over there.

Once I make it to the palely illuminated bank parking lot, I have a seat down on the sidewalk in front of the building. I observe the moths and gnats wildly dancing around the light at the top of each streetlight in the parking lot. How stupid and foolish and desperate they all look. I feel tears of unknown origin well up in my eyes as I sit alone out here. I close my eyes, but only for a second, because a car pulls into the parking lot.

The lights blind me as the old car rolls up to the parking space right next to the one my feet sitting in. The heat from the engine radiates off the car, extending its warmth my way. I squint my eyes at the bright headlights, trying to make out the dumb fucker who parked so close to me.

"Ho-ly, shit!" The tall figure steps in front of the light that still blares past his shape.

"The bank's closed." I rasp, lowering my eyes to spare my sight.

"What are you, the fuckin' watchdog?" Negan snickers, towering over me, "You holding down the fort?"

"No." I sigh, looking over at the cantina that seems like a mile out.

"Oh, that's right," He strolls behind me and then steps off the sidewalk until he's standing right in front of me, "You and your best friend, Lourdes, are having a night out on the town."

"Yeah." I dryly say.

"What's the matter? Did Lourdes fuckin' ditch ya?"

I shake my head. "No, she brought her boyfriend and three's a crowd."

Negan glances over at the bar across the street. "That why you got fuckin' pepper spray in your hand?"

I peer into my half closed hand. "No, some guy grabbed me."

His humored expression dives. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I stick the pepper spray back into my purse, "I guess last year's stocking stuffer really was useful."

Negan inhales and exhales, tersely. "Why are you all the fucking way over here, huh?"

"I don't know," I look up at him, "What are you doing out this late?"

"Using the ATM."

I furrow my brows. "At...this hour?"

"Do you even fucking know what time it is?" Negan chuckles a little at my hesitation.

"...Midnight?"

"Good guess." He looks at his watch, "But it's actually eleven forty-seven."

"Same difference," I say, "What are you getting money out for?"

"Titty bar." Negan smirks.

I nod my head. "Oh, okay."

"I was joking," He laughs, "Really? You just accepted that answer, no ounce of disbelief?"

"No, I-" I hiccup abruptly, "I think that sounds right up your alley."

"I can see right up your alley." Negan nods towards my dress.

I slide my feet forward a little to lower the view. "So, you're not going to a strip club?"

"Nope, 'cause I just came from one."

"Really?" I fumble as I try to stand.

Negan catches one of my hands and pulls me up. "No, not fuckin' really," He gives me a look over as I steady myself, "My wife would fuckin' flay me alive and eat me like barbeque, if she found out; which she would, because we have joint accounts."

"That's too bad," I blink at him, sleepily smiling, "I've always wanted to go to one."

"Throwing your paycheck in singles at a half- naked broad is something that appeals to you?"

I shrug. "I like to support my fellow woman, whomever they are, or choose to be."

"Well, maybe next time." Negan smiles, walking to the ATM machine just outside the bank doors.

"So, if you aren't getting a lap dance, then how come you're out so late?"

"I was just at the drive-in."

"Your wife stayed home?"

"Lucille's not home." He folds two bills into his wallet.

"Where's she at?"

"In Alexandria," Negan tells me, as he tucks the wallet into the back pocket of his pants, "They decided to stay the night, because of the long drive."

"Oh." I nod. My stomach growls against the emptiness I feel.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah," I look back over to the cantina, "That place will close soon, I bet. I'll just get some food on the way home."

"Think it's a good idea to drive anywhere in your condition?"

"I'm okay."

"You can hardly fucking stand, Pip." Negan scoffs.

"I'm lucid," I inform him, repressing the sway of my body, "I can recite Shakespeare drunk and not miss a beat. Shit, I think I have a better handle on things after I've been drinking. It feels like that anyway."

"Yeah, it's fucking called alcoholism."

"You're called alcoholism." I retort, looking for my cigarettes. "I was lying about having a handle, I don't know why I said that."

He chuckles, "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

"No, I'm with Lourdes and Simon; I'll get a ride from them."

"Are they sober?"

"...Simon is, I think."

Negan rolls his eyes. "Let me drive you home."

"Funny, that's exactly what that one guy said before his eyes were on fire." I itch my eyebrow.

He laughs huskily. "Don't be an idiot, Pippa. They've been drinking, I haven't."

"Will you take me to McDonald's?"

"Sure."

I sigh, giving in. "Okay, let's go."

"Forgetting something?"

My brows knit. "Huh?"

"Lourdes," Negan clarifies, motioning his eyes across the street, "Maybe you should tell her that you're leaving."

"Oh," I stare at him, reading his motives, "Maybe I should just stay with them."

He rolls his eyes again, this time not so amused. "Make your fuckin' mind up, Jesus. It's late."

I have half a mind to tell him to go the fuck home then, but I'm too tired to spar and I think I want to go with him. "Okay, okay," I relent like a child, "Just stay here."

"We'll drive over."

"No!" I object, putting my hand up for him to stay. "It'll just take a minute."

"It'll take less than that, if I don't have to fucking wait for you to stumble all the way across the damn street." Negan argues.

I open my mouth, puzzled about what to say. "I-I just th-"

"What are you gonna tell her, huh?" He scoffs, leaning against his old Mustang. "You're going home by way of a magic fuckin' carpet?"

I look down for a minute, before nodding. "Okay, fine."

Negan smiles, teeth and all. "Atta girl," He says, opening the door to the passenger's side.

I wallow over and get into his car, letting him close the door for me. His car has a warm, earthy smell to it, like cologne. I didn't really smell it on him outside, but in here it's not as subtle. Purposeful, perhaps.

Negan drives me over to the bar without a word, until he puts the car in park. "Alright, make it quick."

I don't move as I gaze at the neon sign that says "open" in the window that displays the people inside.

"Chop, chop, honey."

"Okay!" I push the car door open like it weighs a ton.

I steady myself on his door, before hoofing it to the front door of the cantina. Some people exit before I can put my hand out for the handle, so I hold the door open for them. Once they've gone, I enter the place and look for Lourdes. I see Simon almost instantly, sitting down at the table we first sat at the beginning of the night.

"There you are," He says, unconcerned, "Lourdes was wondering where you ran off to."

"I went out for a smoke," I rasp, scanning the vicinity.

Lourdes emerges from the bathroom right as I'm about to ask where she is. "Hey, I've been looking for you."

"I went out for a smoke." I repeat.

"Okay," She nods, looking me over, "Ready to head out?"

Her words aren't slurred, but you can definitely tell she drunk by the way she relies on Simon's chair for support.

"Um, yeah, but...I ran into Negan outside and-"

"Negan?"

"Uh, yeah," I feel nervous about going on, "He, um, offered to give me a ride home, so the two of you don't have to do it."

"It's not a problem, right babe?" Lourdes touches Simon's shoulder.

Simon gives me the up and down, sighing. "Well, driving all the way there and back seems like huge pain in the ass."

Lourdes goes to protest, but I interject. "It is a pain in the ass."

"What?" Lourdes furrows her eyes at me.

"He's right," I smile, innocently, "It is a pain in the ass and we've all been drinking and so I'm just gonna have Negan take me home."

"You could stay the night at my house," Lourdes offers.

"Thanks, but I really just want to go home to my bed." I chuckle languidly.

"What about your car?"

"I'll...have my dad drive me back tomorrow morning."

Lourdes looks upset and confused, trying to process everything while drunk. "Uh..."

"Sounds good," Simon stands up and stretches, making an exaggerated groaning sound, "I'm gonna take a leak, before we hit the road." He grins at me. "We should do this again sometime."

I can't tell if he's being sarcastic, but I smile anyway. "Yeah."

"Thanks for chippin' in for gas." He winks, making a clicking sound with the corner of his mouth and then kisses Lourdes on the temple, before stalking off to the bathroom.

I read Lourdes' uneasy expression and feel somewhat guilty in my stomach. "I'll text you when I get home, so you know I got there safely."

She looks forlornly up at me. "Okay."

"Alright," I murmur, "I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me."

Lourdes smiles, like she's about to cry, or something. "Yeah, yeah, we'll for sure have to hang out again."

"Goodnight, Lourdes."

"Bye."

I sheepishly step back, turning to leave the cantina. Why do I feel so bad? The night air caresses my face when I get outside again, but I hardly notice. The honk of a car horn jolts me out of thought.

"Get the lead outta your ass and c'mon!" Negan shouts from his rolled down window.

 **...**

"Thank you." I unroll the bag that Negan hands me.

"You are most welcome." He smirks lightly, driving out of the drive-thru and back onto the road. "Where's your boy?"

"With my parents," I answer, sipping from my medium Dr. Pepper, "Why?"

"Just curious is all."

"Hm," I nod, eating some fries, "You know, the other day, he was running around the house and he hit his toe on the edge of the couch."

"And?"

"And he yelled 'Shit!' before he started crying," I look over at Negan, who's chuckling, "Any clue where he might have picked that up?"

"You?" Negan replies.

"Please," I roll my eyes, reaching into the bag, "He got it from hanging out with you."

"Bullshit!" He scoffs, "Your fuckin' mouth could make a sailor cry."

"Well, Jolyon never says bad words and then he starts playing catch with you and now all of the sudden he is."

"Want the apology now, or in fuckin' writing?"

"Fuck you." I cackle.

"Well, now you can fucking forget it." Negan chuckles.

"Man, that is some really strong cologne." I wince, becoming bothered by the scent that refuses to be ignored.

"I take it that means you don't fuckin like it?" He smiles over at me.

"Not in such volumes," I sniff the air, "Hm, who would've thought bourbon could pair nicely with juniper."

"Excuse me?"

"The cologne notes." I say, matter-of- fact.

"Oh," Negan's face conveys mild bewilderment, "Why is it that you fucking know the 'notes' of my cologne, Dr. Lecter?"

"I worked behind a perfume counter for a year in college." I tell him.

"And here I just thought you could sniff out bourbon like a bloodhound." Negan laughs, stopping at the red light.

"Did you spill the whole fucking bottle in here?"

"No."

I sniff. "Then why the fuck does it smell so fucking potent in here? My eyes are starting to water."

"Maybe I put too much on." He says, dismissively, driving when the light turns green.

"Why would you put cologne on to go to the movies by yourself?" I snicker, before the cogs start rolling. "You weren't alone, were you?"

"Was too." Negan claims.

My tongue feels the inside of my cheek. "You didn't spray a shit ton of cologne in your car to mask the smell of women's perfume?"

"Nope."

I pull the seatbelt across me up to my nose. "Then why do I smell...lime blossoms...and violets?"

"My wife, probably." Negan answers, a little humored.

"Your wife doesn't seem like a florally kind of woman."

"How the fuck would you know?" He raises his brows into his forehead, smiling. "You've never even met my wife, let alone fuckin' smelt her."

I shrug, returning to my food. "I don't know, I just think of a superintendent wearing something more...sophisticated, like ginger, or amber. You know, because she's a powerful lady."

"Shit, you are drunk," Negan throatily laughs, "That's the most ridiculous shit I've ever fucking heard."

"So, you went to the drive-in alone?" I arch my brow, eating a chicken nugget.

"Yes, dear."

"Explain the lipstick on the side of your jaw."

"There's no lipstick." He scoffs, stealthily looking into the mirror and casually scratching the side of his jaw.

I snort. "Gotcha."

Negan glances my way and tries to stifle a smile to no avail. "Fuck you."

My laughter settles. "Who was it?"

"Damn, my wife doesn't give the third degree half as fuckin' bad as you."

"Well, I can't imagine you were with Lara, or Claire, considering it's Saturday night and they both have kids and...husbands." I point him to the street he needs to turn down. "Was it someone else we work with?"

He exhales through his nose, turning down my street. "No."

"...Where'd you met her?"

"Jesus Christ!" Negan tiredly exclaims. "How the fuck is that your business?"

"I'm making conversation," I see my house a few feet away, "It's that one."

He stops the car right in front, not pulling into the driveway. "This is your stop."

I gather up my food, soda, and purse. I look over at him, as I'm about to open the door. "Do you want to come inside?"

"No." He tersely says, shaking his head.

"We'd be alone."

"Yeah."

I bite the corner of my lip. "So, do you want to come in?"

"It's late," Negan turn his head my way, "I'm gonna go home."

I hesitate before opening the door and climbing out of the car. I weave a little less than I did half an hour ago, but I still feel a swimming vibe from my head to my toes. I drop my purse, after stumbling on a rock, or something.

"Come on." I say between my teeth, crouching down. Dizziness hits me while I'm down, so I take a knee for a moment. I don't know why tears start up, or why my throat feels so raw.

"You okay?" Negan yells from his car.

"I'm fine!" My voice crackles in the end.

"Jesus," I hear Negan mutter under his breath, frustrated, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

I rise from the ground, picking up my purse and dropping my soda in the process. "Fuck, seriously?"

"Give me your fucking keys." Negan's suddenly at my elbow.

"No, it's alright," I start to walk up to my porch, "Go home."

"No, just..." He groans irritably, "Just give me your damn keys."

"Go home."

"Are you gonna be able to fucking get in _your_ home without help?"

I close my eyes and breath, reaching into my purse and handing him my keys. "You're such a dick."

"For trying to help you?"

"No," I almost trip on a step, but he catches me just before, "Just in general. It's always true...no matter what."

"Can't argue with that," Negan laughs, "Which one's to the house?"

"That one." I point to the house key.

Negan sticks the key into the door and rudely unlocks it. He then opens the door. "There you go."

"Thanks." I walk into my home. The cat hurries over, then acts all cool and nonchalant, rubbing his head against the bench.

"Well, goodnight."

"Wait!" I turn halfway to look out at Negan.

He halts, sighing, then peering over at me. "What?"

"Um, do you want some coffee?" I ask. "For the road, I mean."

"I'll just grab a cup from the gas station."

"...Okay." I nod my head, acceptingly. "Thank you for driving me home."

"Yep," He nods, looking down and then abruptly bends down. Negan scoops up Pip with one hand, preventing him from escaping off the porch. "You almost let your damn cat out."

I go to take him from Negan, but Pip pushes off from me, landing on his feet, and totting back inside.

"Damn it, Pip." I cringe at the small scratch I obtained on my hand.

"I know," Negan snickers, "You really need to get your shit together."

"Not me, dumb ass," I huff, "The cat."

"Wait, your fuckin' cat has the same fuckin' name as you?" Negan's grin shines, even in the dark.

"No, it's just Pip," I smile, too, "Jol named him, I had no veto power."

He chuckles into a yawn. "That's...actually pretty fucking cute."

"Guess so."

Negan's eyes look on me with an unreadable gaze. "Tell the kid I said hey."

"Okay," I shrug off my jacket, "Drive safe."

"What? No coffee?" Negan scoffs.

"I fucking offered and you turned me down," I scoff back in mimicry, "Go to the gas station."

"Why pay for what you can get for fuckin' free?" He grins like a son of bitch who knows he's a son of bitch. "You gonna invite me in?"

My eyes examine him intently. "Come in."

Like a vampire, Negan strolls confidently into my house after being invited. He then has the balls to give himself a tour of the kitchen, even daring to open the cabinets and fridge.

"I said come in, not fucking case the place." I kick my shoes off. "Are you seriously going through my pantry?"

"Like I said before, doll face," He peeks into the pantry, "I'm nosy."

I roll my eyes, smiling, and going to the coffee pot. I fill the pot with water, not really paying attention to my intruder's whereabouts. The coffee grounds smells heavenly as I scoop them into the filter.

"What a lovely fucking home you have." Negan comes back into the kitchen, pulling a chair out by the table. "You're quite the little homemaker."

"Nah, I just copy and paste from the catalogs," I pad to the table.

"Well, you imitate well then."

"Faking shit is something I'm well-versed in." I sit up on the table and rest my feet on the chair next to Negan.

"Not orgasms, I hope." He wickedly snickers, trailing his hand up my calf.

"Never," I smirk, inspecting my hands in my lap, "Someone once told me not to laugh at a guy's joke, if I didn't think it was funny and I carried that rule over."

"Damn, you're cruel." Negan claims, eyes following his hand.

"The cruelest." I confess, leaping off the table. "Sugar, milk, or creamer?"

"Milk, please, sugar." He muses. I bring him a cup of coffee, which he takes. "Thank you."

"Did you see my bedroom?" I murmur. "When you were snooping?"

"I may have glanced in."

I put my hand on the other side of his face to gently persuade him to see me. "You should look more in depth."

Negan takes my hand from his face, holding it. "I thought you said you didn't want to fuck me in your house?"

"Jolyon's not here," I take my hand away, "So, it's different."

"I also recall you turning me down, when I propositioned you for Saturday."

"It wasn't convenient," I shrug my shoulders, "I had plans."

He squints up at me, analyzing, then scoffs. "Always on your fucking terms, huh?"

"That's right." I look back at him with no expression one way, or the other.

"Well," Negan drinks some coffee, "That's gonna fuckin' change."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I huff through my nose. "Really? Because you just called me ma'am, so good start there, champ."

Negan licks his lips, grinning. "I'm going home."

"Right now?" I portray demure disappointment.

"Yep, sorry to burst your fuckin' bubble, honey."

I nod, tactfully, before hiking my hands underneath my dress. I pull down my panties and step out of them, keeping a smile at bay at Negan's interest.

I then yawn, "Yeah, I guess you better," I toss my underwear onto his lap and stroll out of the kitchen, "Have a goodnight."

I grin as I hear the chair pushed back and heavy footsteps exiting the kitchen. I enter my bedroom as if I'm going to bed, peeling back the blankets. The floor creaks with approaching footsteps, but I pay them no mind. I pull my dress over my head and toss it in some random direction, before taking my bra off.

"Pippa?"

"Hm?" I casually turn my head towards the door frame.

"You should come lock the door, after I leave." Negan motions his head in the direction of the front door.

I feel a faltering, but I don't convey it. "Okay."

I tread, stark naked, to the doorway, brushing against him as I pass into the hallway. I don't get three feet down the hall, before his hand catches by my middle and tugs me back. I giggle as I stumble backwards into him. Victory.

 **...**

I wake up on my stomach when the alarm clock goes off around seven. Parts of me feel stiff from sleeping weird, while the entirety of my being feels drained because of the hangover and going to bed late. I rise up on my hands and knees, working the kinks out of my neck, before backing off the bed. My feet step over and around the comforter and sheets that are half, if not completely, off the bed. I also tip- toe past some clothes.

I go into the bathroom and turn the faucet on to splash some cold water on my face. After all that's done, I leave my bedroom altogether; draping the dress from last night over me as I do. The coffee's cold, but I don't care. Carrying my mug, I go find my purse for my cigarettes.

On the porch with my coffee and lit cigarette, I sit on the steps as I recollect the night, smiling to myself. My phone interrupts, so I answer it.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, are you up?" She asks.

"I answered, didn't I?"

I can pretty much see her roll her eyes over the phone. "We were thinking about going to Lorelei's for breakfast; would you like to go, or should we just bring Jol home afterwards."

"No, I wanna come." I put my cigarette out, exhaling the last lungful of smoke.

"You sure?" She asks.

"Yeah," I sigh, "I'm just sitting here alone."

"Alright," Mom tells Dad, who apparently is in the background, that I'm going, "Do you want to meet us?"

"I don't have a car."

"What?" She sound mildly panicked. "Why?"

"Everything's fine, but it's a long story." I report.

"...Okay, we'll come get you."

"Alright, bye." I hang up.

As I go back inside, I spot a little notification thing that tells me I have a text message. I open the message and it reads: _"Can we talk?"_ Followed by another that says: " _It's D."_

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy! I had some extra time this week to get two chapters in.**

 **Remember. Innocence: You may be right. Sherry hasn't overtly done or said anything yet that would indicate any disdain, or two-facedness towards Pippa. At least nothing that can be proved. Sometimes papers accidently fall out of purses...*shrugs* And I, too, love Negan and Pippa's fuck buddy relationship!**

 **CLTex: I'm glad you liked the little bit of past I put in Chapter 12! I am planning on more little scenes in future chapters, so all will be revealed in good time. I'm also glad you were intrigued by Pippa trying to establish a power dynamic over Negan. She and him are alike in some ways.**


	15. Chapter 15

My parents don't drive off from Lourdes' house, until after I've secured Jolyon in his car seat and fired up my Jeep. I look out at Simon's Camaro parked besides Lourdes' car in the driveway. I guess they made it home okay, but I don't have the desire to go knock on the door.

"Mommy, play the book!" Jolyon says from the backseat.

"Okay." I smile into the rearview mirror. I toss my phone into a cup holder; turn on the audio book that will, undoubtedly, put Jolyon to sleep and drive away from Lourdes' placid looking house.

The way home begins rather peaceful. Jolyon looks out the window as he listens to the audio book; occasionally making mention of what he sees, or asking little questions. I answer and reply to each musing, knowing that the calmer my tone of voice is, the heavier his eyelids become. Eventually, about fifteen minutes in, he's out like a light. Works every time.

The rest of time is spent in mental and emotional disquietude. At a red light, I glance down through the corner of my eye at my phone, contemplating. He wants to talk? What is there to fucking talk about? How could us meeting end in anything other than grief? Did he get my number from his mom? From Sherry? From her phone when she wasn't looking? My head reels; round and round and round in an attempt to gain sense of the two text messages I read earlier this morning.

 _"Can we talk?"_ and _"It's D."_ Is it unhealthy to think and re-think about how much can be within these two messages? It has to be. And yet, I still grow more and more unnerved as I drive home.

Another red light brings me to a stop, so that people can cross the street. I note a couple that have locked hands as they walk from the right side to the left. The woman is wearing a yellow t-shirt; similar to one that I had when I was seventeen...

 _"One-fourth cup of olive oil."_

 _"What?" He comes over to the part of the island, where I'm leaning over one of my mom's recipe books. "That says vegetable oil, Pip."_

 _"Same thing." I cackle._

 _"No, it's not," Dwight scoffs, opening up one of the cupboards, "That's why it says vegetable oil and not olive oil."_

 _"Like anyone would be able to tell." I roll my eyes, smiling._

 _"Now I know why you asked me to help." He says, as he pours oil into a measuring cup._

 _"Tch, whatever," I chuckle, "Just make sure you make enough for three dozen brownies, Cinderella."_

 _"Shut up." He chuckles._

 _"And don't forget the chocolate chips." I add._

 _"Keep it up," D turns his head my way, grinning, "And you can do this by yourself and I'll just go home."_

 _"Then do it." I saucily challenge._

 _He promptly sets the whisk against the inside of the bowl. "See ya tomorrow."_

 _"Wait, wait, wait!" I laugh, grabbing his shirtsleeve to stop him. "Don't go, I need your help!"_

 _"Ask your mom to help when she gets home." He says with a hint of teasing._

 _I wrap my arms around him from behind. "No, stay and help me."_

 _"I'm doing all the work," Dwight replies, "It's your bake sale and you're not doing anything."_

 _I rest my head on his back. "You know I'm lousy at baking."_

 _"You wouldn't be if you read the directions right."_

 _"Why don't you show me how it's done?" I loosen my hold and he turns to face me. "I'll observe."_

 _"You could help," Dwight snickers down at me, "That's the best way to learn."_

 _I smirk. "But I don't look as cute as you do in an apron."_

 _"I'm not wearing an apron."_

 _"Well, you should be," I rake some of his hair back with my fingers, "Because you'd look cute."_

 _He shakes his head, sighing. "Why have a bake sale, if you don't know how to bake?"_

 _"We're raising money to help the girls who can't afford cheer uniforms." I tell him._

 _"Who's bright idea was it to do it this way?"_

 _"Mine."_

 _"Despite not knowing how to make brownies?" He huffs._

 _"Yeah, but I knew my boyfriend knew how to." I giggle, tipping up on my toes._

 _"What's the next step?"_

 _I peck him sweetly on the lips. "Sugar."_

 _Dwight chuckles under his breath. "Real clever."_

 _"I know," I biting the corner of my lip, "Kiss me."_

 _"What about the brownies?"_

 _I grin and peck his lips; once, twice, three times, until he kisses me back. We're alone for the moment. Audrey's away at college, Dad left for the graveyard shift an hour ago, and Mom won't be home for another ten minutes or so. Our fooling around brings our bodies closer together. Part of my thigh that isn't covered by my shorts, brushes against what can only be his penis beneath his jeans._

 _I break away and breathily stare at him for a moment._

 _"What?" He chuckles, innocently unaware._

 _"Nothing." I shake my head. My swollen lips tingle a little from kissing and being kissed. I put my fingers up to touch them._

 _"What's the matter?"_

 _I glance down at my marigold- colored, Camden Cheer t-shirt, before looking back up at him. I lift the shirt from the bottom over my head. It's not cold inside, but goosebumps still blanket my skin. Dwight's eyes trail up from my bra-clad breasts to my eyes. When our eyes meet, it's like I'm struck, even though I'm standing still._

 _"Come here." I say, softly._

 _Dwight steps anxiously forward and kisses me with fumbled passion. A sickly good feeling whirls inside me from the chest down. I continue to make out with him, but that really keen feeling hasn't gone away and I don't want it to. We've kissed like this plenty of times, but I've never felt like this before. I pull away, again._

 _"You alright?" He asks me, sounding a little concerned._

 _"Um..."I bite the corner of my lip, "I, um, I-"_

 _"Hello?" My mom calls out in a melodious voice. "Anyone home?"_

 _"Yeah, in here!" I snatch up my shirt from the floor and scramble to put it back on before she walks in._

 _"What a day," She comes into the kitchen, "Oh, hi, Dwight!"_

 _"Hi." He smiles back at her._

 _"You kids makin' brownies for the bake sale?" She turns to get some water from the sink._

 _"Uh, yeah." Dwight casually, yet quickly adjusts himself. He then leans on the counter behind him and crosses one leg over._

 _"Pippa?"_

 _My eyes flicker up to Dwight's embarrassed eyes and then over to my mom. "What?"_

 _"Did you get your test back today?" She asks._

 _"Yeah," I fiddle with my shirt, "I got my test back."_

 _"Well, how'd you do?" Mom smiles._

 _"Um..." I draw a blank and suddenly feel warmth billow in my face._

 _"You alright, honey?"_

 _"Yeah," I force a smile, "I'm fine."_

I swallow down the lump in my throat as I pull into our driveway. I sit there for a few minutes with the car off. After further contemplation, I take up my phone and open up the messaging to reply to him. I stare down at the keyboard and fiddle my thumbs in trying to figure out what to say. I know what I want to say, but I don't know how to say it. A sharp inhale in the back seat indicates Jolyon waking up.

He blinks a few times, mildly disoriented. "Mommy?"

"Yeah, baby?" I look over at him.

"Are we home yet?"

"Yeah, we're home."

I look down at my phone and type, _"Ok. When and where?"_ I send the message and unbuckle my seatbelt to get out of the car.

 **...**

"Something you want to pay close attention to is the juxtaposition between the strange occurrences in Thornfield and-"

My phone pings on my desk and I look over at it. I usually don't pay much mind to my phone, or where's it at half the time, but ever since yesterday, I've been watching it like a hawk.

I glance up at my students, most of whom are hanging off my unfinished sentence. "And Jane's anger."

The bell rings right after I write that down on the whiteboard, sending the last class of the day in a hurry to pack up and go home.

"Remember to write down the homework questions that are due Thursday!" I add, before I sit down at my desk to open the text message I got.

I'm a little disappointed to see my sister's name as the sender, but I still read it and reply. My feet push back to scoot my chair out, so I can get up to go get Jolyon. I don't get it; I replied to Dwight's message yesterday at noon, so why hasn't he responded yet? He is after all the one who contacted me first. Maybe he changed his mind.

"Knock, knock," Lourdes comes in through the open door, "Hey."

"Hi," I say back.

"Hooray for the end of Monday, right?" She meekly chuckles.

"Yeah." I smile. Looking at her instantly reminds me that I didn't call her like I said I would. "I forgot to call you to let you know I got home."

"It's okay," Lourdes waves her hand, dismissively, "I figured when your car wasn't out front, that you got home okay."

"Yeah, I did." I nod my head, slinging my purse strap over my shoulder. "I had a really good time."

"Me, too." She smiles, fiddling with her nail, "So...how was the drive home?"

"Um...fine."

"He was his typical self, I take it?" Lourdes rolls her eyes. "A dick who never stops talking."

I laugh a little, looking down at my phone for the billionth time. "Well, I should go. I gotta pick up Jol."

"Alright," Her smile wanes a bit, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure," I stop in my tracks, "What is it?"

Lourdes opens her mouth, as if to ask me what she wants to ask, but after a moment's hesitation, she sighs. "Uh, never mind. It's nothing."

"Okay," I walk out of my class with her, "You aren't upset that I..." I look over my shoulder, "That I bought a few joints off Simon, are you?"

"Oh, no!" Lourdes insists with a faint chuckle. "I mean, if I'm mad at anyone for that, it'd be Simon."

"Oh."

"Look, I'm not involved in his...business, or whatever, but I wish he'd be less imprudent about dealing out in the open, you know?"

"Yeah..."I nod, stopping at by her car, "Well, I'll see ya tomorrow."

"Bye!"

I walk down to Happy Hands, against the autumn chill. I check my phone like an obsessive hopeful, finding disappointment each time. I feel like sending him a strongly worded "fuck you." Angry, I shove my phone to the bottom of my purse and walk faster to the preschool/daycare. When I get there, the buoyant preschool teacher offers to get Jolyon for me, while I sign him out at the front desk.

"Mommy!" Jolyon runs over to me, as soon as he comes out of the room with a loopy garden painted on the walls.

"Hey, you!" I grab him up in my arms. "How was your day?"

"I gotta rainbow band aid!" He proudly holds up his index finger where a rainbow- striped band-aid is indeed wrapped.

"Wow, how'd you get that?"

"I got cutted it on paper." He informs.

"Oh, well, what a gusher that must have been." I snicker, kissing the finger.

"Yeah." Jolyon agrees.

"Jolyon, don't forget your backpack!" The same teacher, Miss Jessica, smiles. "Here, let me give you a hand."

"Thanks." I grin lightly as she gets his backpack out of his cubby for me.

"I just have to say that I absolutely adore having Jolyon around," She fawns, coming over to us, "Such a delight to have. You can totally tell he's a teacher's kid, because he's so eager to learn and asks so many questions."

I chuckle at her friendly words, taking his backpack over my shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"Alright, have a good night." She sweetly smiles, heading off to the classroom.

As she passes, a faint, but familiar, scent softly breezes my way. The scent of lime blossoms and violets. I look quickly back at the disappearing lady, as Jolyon and I leave.

"I'm hungry." Jolyon says.

"Yeah?" I put him down outside, so we can walk back to the high school. "What do you feel like having?"

"Mm...noodles!"

Later that night, after Jolyon goes to bed, I take a bath to ease the tension I feel. I don't drink, or play my music, or run the soap along my wet skin. I just sit in the tub of water, staring at my legs under the clear water. For a while, I don't think about anything, or anyone. It's dull, yet contenting.

The echoing of my phone's text alert voluminously bouncing off the walls of my bathroom disrupts my bath after god knows how long I've been sitting in here. I pull the plug and get out of the tub; wrapping a towel around me and padding over to the sink. My pruny hands pick up the phone.

 _"Tomorrow?"_

My insides arrest at the one-worded question. _"Ok."_

 **...**

I cannot believe my eyes. I'm grading one student's homework assignment that literally is verbatim what another I had graded earlier has written. How the fuck did they think I wouldn't catch this shit? I roll my eyes and give the paper a red negative ten, then write 'Do your own work!' I then fish out the other paper and cross out the ten out of ten I had given it; replacing it with the same mark I gave its twin.

The door to my room opens. "Hey." Negan strolls in without knocking.

"Hey," I flatly acknowledge him, "Where were you yesterday?"

"I was here." He answers.

"I didn't see you," I stay focused on my grading, "Or hear you."

"Well, I was busy."

"Doing what?" I scoff.

"My job, smart ass," Negan chuckles, as he peruses around my desk, "I do actually hang around this place for a fucking reason."

"You worked through lunch?"

"Nope."

I tap my pen on a paper. "But you were still busy?"

"Yep," He leans against my desk, "Miss me?"

"No."

"Are you staying after work?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?" Negan asks.

"Because I'm meeting a friend after work." I relay.

"Lourdes?"

"No," I scoff under my breath, "I have other friends besides Lourdes."

"Name two." He grins.

"Piss off." I close the folder with my second period papers in it.

"You can't name two other friends?" Negan feigns shock. "That's just fuckin' sad."

I twist my mouth to the side. "Guess I'm not as popular as you."

"It would fuckin' appear that way, yeah."

"What do you want?"

"Must I want something in order to come see you?" Negan smirks.

"What do you want, Negan?" I ask again.

"Are you pissed, or something?" His brows furrow.

"No."

"Then why so fucking short?"

I shrug, opening the bag where my sandwich lays, "Am I being short?"

"Yeah, you fuckin' are." He then makes a sound of disgust. "The fuck is that smell?"

"Tuna salad, motherfucker," I bite into my sandwich, "Ever heard of it?"

"That is gross as shit."

"Tuna?" I raise my brow.

"How can you fuckin' eat something that looks and fuckin' smells like cat food?" He winces.

"Well, if keeps you at bay..." I smirk, taking another bite, crunching the crisp pieces of celery.

"Funny, you didn't seem to want me at arm's length the other night."

A faint smile enters the picture. "It was on my terms."

"More like on your back." Negan leans my way, putting his hand on my desk. "Wanna see where else we can get it?"

"As tempting an offer as that sounds," I put a hand on his chest and gently push him out of my space, "I'm gonna have to pass."

"If you do, someone else won't."

"Well, then I hope they have wet ones in their purse like I do." I retort, standing up to leave.

"Where are we going?"

" _I'm_ going to get some coffee." I huff.

"You mean that shit in the break room?" Negan chuckles.

"No, I'm going to the place Lourdes took me to."

"Mind if I tag along?"

I shrug, without looking back at him. "I guess not."

"Cool." He strides up to me, "So, where ya meeting this 'friend' of yours?"

I slap his hand from my ass. "That's classified information."

"Is it a guy?"

I scoff through my nose in response.

"Ooh, it is a guy!" Negan taunts. "If this is another date, I sure fuckin' hope you bring your own car, so he won't fuckin' leave you on the side of the road."

"Don't worry, I'll put out this time." I retort

He throatily chuckles. "Well, then get the fucking lobster, so it'll be more of a fair trade."

"Thanks, I'll do that." I acridly quip.

"Who's watching the kid?"

"I'm taking him with me."

Negan gives me a disconcerting look over. "What?"

I roll my eyes, unlocking my car. "I'm taking my kid to the park, so I can meet up with someone I went to highschool with."

He scoffs. "That's not a date."

"No, asshole, its not," I smirk, putting the key in the ignition, "But I had you going for a second there, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Negan says, sarcastically, "Can I have one of those wet ones to wipe the fuckin' sweat off my brow?"

 **...**

"Higher!" Jolyon laughs with his hands gripped tightly around the chains of the swing. "Higher, Mom!"

"I'm trying, Jol!" I chuckle at his overwhelming laughter.

I came to Ansley Park, where Dwight asked me to meet him, thirty minutes early after Jolyon and I rolled into town. I figured we could play while I wait for Dwight to come, so Jolyon will be nice and tired by bedtime.

Around four-thirty, I see a truck with a camper shell pull into the small parking lot. He parks on the right side of my Jeep, so I can't see him from here. I watch curiously, still pushing Jolyon on the swing. He doesn't get out of the truck right away. A small trail of smoke snakes into the atmosphere from behind my Jeep. Finally, I hear the shutting of a door and a second after that, Dwight walks out from between the two cars with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Higher!"

I look back to Jolyon. "Mommy's arms are tired," I say, carefully stopping the swing, "How about you go play on the slides, so I can rest?"

"Okay!" Jolyon puts his hand out for me to hold while he hops off the swing seat.

"Play nice with the other kids." I run my hand over his curls, as he runs off. "Stay where I can see you!"

I glance over to Dwight, who's seen me by now. I walk over to the park bench that's about halfway between us. He makes it there before I do and so he sits down first.

"Hi." Dwight says as I take my seat.

"You're late," I tell him, "You said four-fifteen, it's four-thirty."

"I had to get gas," He replies, "And some cigarettes."

"How's Sherry?" I curtly ask.

"She's good."

I keep my eyes on Jolyon. "Good."

"How have you been?" He softly inquires, looking down at the ground.

"I'm alright," I dryly claim, "Been busy."

He's quiet for a moment. "You what I was thinking about the other day?"

"No, what?"

"That time we were down by the river and I accidentally laid back on the fish hook that was caught in the beach blanket."

I snicker. "That's weird, I was thinking about that a few days ago, too."

"I still have a scar where it snagged me."

I smile, slowly rubbing my hands together. "I remember your mom freaking out, even though it wasn't that big of deal."

He chuckles lightly, before he gets quiet. "...Do you remember...uh, what we did after you got the hook out?"

"Yeah, I do," I glance down at my hands.

Dwight scratches the side of his nose. "Um, look, about what I said the other night."

"That you still had feelings for me?"

"...Yeah." He sounds uneasy. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I turn my head to look at him with an arched, perplexed brow. "What have you got to be sorry about?"

"I shouldn't have said that," He tells me, "If I could take it back, I would."

I scoff, turning my head forward again. "Well, I'm here, so take it back."

He exhales, "I can't."

"Sure you can," I chuckle sorely.

"I can't." He repeats.

"Why not?" I press, looking back to him. "Why not?"

"If I could," D snaps lightly, "I would, but...I can't."

I close my lips and wave at Jolyon who waves from the top of the slide. "So, that's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I needed to tell you that."

"Why?" I disquietly laugh.

He sighs, "Because it was on my mind and I couldn't sleep."

"Well, you should sleep good tonight," I grab my purse, "I gotta go home and fix dinner."

"Pippa, wait."

"Thanks for asking me to meet you here," I sardonically thank him, "Anytime you wanna fucking get a weight off your shoulders, you have my number."

"Come on, Pip," He sighs again, frustrated, "Don't-"

"Do you have any idea?" I snap at him.

He looks over at me with his brows furrowed and his mouth slightly open in what I assume is confusion.

"You think you lost sleep?" I swallow the lump in my throat and rise. "Try taking a walk in my fucking shoes." I peer over at the park. "Jolyon! Come on, baby, it's time to go home!"

"Pippa," Dwight stands up from the bench, "I didn't...I didn't realize-"

"That _I_ still have feelings for you?" I interrupt. "Or that I always have?"

"...No."

"Well..." I briefly look over at Jolyon approaching, "I do. Not that it does me any good."

"Hi." Jolyon waves at Dwight, as he takes my other hand.

"Hey." Dwight smiles at him, before glancing back at me with a perturbed expression.

"Bye, Dwight." I stiffly say.

Jolyon and I walk to the car hand in hand. "Can we watch the shark show when we get home?"

"If it's on." I answer, opening the door to the car.

"I won't get scared this time." He claims, sitting in his car seat.

"If you say so." I buckle him in.

"Can I sleep in your bed?"

"Sure," I smirk, "But not because you'll get scared, right?"

"Yeah." He nods his head.

I snicker, kissing his cheek. "Okay." I close the car door and am made aware of Dwight. "Sorry," I rasp, realizing that I'm blocking him from getting into his car.

I tread towards him to head to my side of the car and out of his way. Dwight stands by the back of his truck, while I pass him. Just as I'm about to, I pause at the feel of his hand touching my arm. I look over at him and he looks back. We're both still for a second; alone between the cars.

I turn so that we're parallel, face to face. Dwight shyly reaches over to tuck some hair behind my ear. He keeps his hand there, gently cupping the side of my face. My breathing rouses as his thumb lightly strokes my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into his kind hand, placing mine in the crook of his elbow imploringly.

"Mommy?" Jolyon nervously calls from the inside of the car. Dwight takes his hand away from my face.

"I'm here, honey!" I lower my eyes. "I have to go."

"Yeah." He murmurs, nodding.

"Bye."

"Bye."

I walk around to the other side of my car with tears filling the rims of my eyes.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading and enjoying! Chapter 15 is a bit uneventful, but I had some serious writer's block and decided not to make it as long, or as "action-packed" as planned. Hope that wasn't too big of a bummer...**

 **CLTex: I'm glad you enjoy the Negan/Pippa duo! A lot of people are feeling it in this fic way more than in Save Yourself, which I think is interesting. How long will Negan deal with Pippa terms? I don't know, he's a pretty domineering figure, so I can't imagine she'll always have the leg up.**

 **PropertyOfNegan77: Thanks for enjoying my story! I'm happy to hear you like my portrayal of Negan and my style. And I can respect your opinion of Dwight, though I adore him lol!**


	16. Chapter 16

"Jesus," He exhales slowly, "That's it."

"Sh," I snicker into his ear, "I like it better when you don't speak."

"It's my fucking car," Negan chuckles up at me, "So, I'll run my mouth all I fucking want."

I smirk, putting my hands on each side of his face. "Well, then make yourself useful."

He grins back. "Yes, ma'am."

Our mouths connect as I start to thrust on him. His hands roam up my open blouse and under my bra. Negan breaks from the kiss and peppers my neck and breasts with deep, lusty kisses, groaning between each with every feel-good movement of my hips. I keep my moaning to a minimum, since no matter how good this feels, I still have nagging awareness that someone could catch us out here in the parking lot.

"Don't unhook my bra." I giggle, moving his hand away.

"If I'm gonna make myself fuckin' useful, then-"

The loud ringing of my phone interrupts him. I still myself and turn towards my purse on the seat of his car.

"Leave it."

"It'll just take a second." I rifle through the purse for the phone.

"Are you fucking serious?"

I cover his mouth with my hand as I answer the phone, while still on his lap. "Hello?"

"Hi, Pippa, it's Leda."

"Oh, hey, Leda," I smile at Negan rolling his eyes, "How are you?"

"I'm doing pretty good, thank you," Leda replies, "Hey, listen, I was wondering if you could possibly work the late shift on Friday?"

"Uh, sure." I graze my hand through Negan's hair.

He mouths for me to hang up the phone, trailing his hands down to my hips.

"That's great, thank you so much!" Leda exclaims through the phone.

"No problem."

"Alright, then, I'll talk to you later, hon!"

"Okay, Leda," I softly reply, "I'll see YOU Friday."

Negan chuckles at the spike he caused in my speech from thrusting up, while I was talking.

"You okay?" Leda asks.

"I'm fine," I claim, "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, bye, Pippa."

"You rude fucker." I call him, tossing my phone aside.

He grins up at me. "Says the gal who fucking took a phone call during sex."

"Well, now," I brush some sweat off my forehead, "I don't know if I want to finish."

"Oh, come, honey," He works his hands around to my ass, "It was all in good fun."

"At my expense," I retort, pecking the side of his jaw.

"Is there any other kind?" He returns to kissing my neck.

"Leda knows my mom," I slowly begin to rock my hips, "If she heard you laughing then puts two and two together; I'm screwed."

"You sure are." Negan snickers.

"I don't need my mom thinking I'm involved with anyone, you jerk." I close my eyes at the feeling I get inside.

He stops kissing me. "You are involved with someone."

I furrow my brows and open my eyes to look at him. "No, I'm not."

"Whose dick are you on then?"

I stop, so I can study his face clearly. "...We're not involved."

"Of course, we are," Negan scoffs, "We're fucking, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but it's just sex."

"Be that as it may," He brushes my hair over my shoulder, "You're still involved with a married man."

I scowl at his humored grin, before sighing. "That's fair, but it isn't anything I want anyone, especially my mom, to know."

"Ashamed of me?"

"You should be ashamed of yourself."

"We got..." He looks down at his watch, "eight minutes."

 **...**

The doorbell rings, so I pause the movie and get up from the couch.

"Is that the pizza, Mom?" Jolyon sits up from the rug where he was lying to watch the movie.

"Yeah." I simply answer, strolling barefoot to the front door. I get out my wallet and open the door.

"Hello." The friendly teen says.

"Hi," I hand him the twenty dollars and thirty-six cents I owe him plus a two-dollar tip.

"Thanks," He takes the cash in exchange for my medium pizza, "Hey, you look familiar."

I lift my head up more and glance at him, bewildered by his words. "I do?"

"Yeah..."The kid thinks for a moment, before his face lights up, "Oh, yeah, you work at my school, right?"

"Uh," I look to the side, "I guess so. Southcastle High School?"

"Yeah, yeah!" He smiles. "You're always there after school. I see you sometimes when I'm at practice."

"Oh, yeah?" I rest the pizza box on my hip.

"Coach Negan always plays with your little kid after practice."

"Yep," I nod my head, "Um, how come you work for a pizza place here? Why not closer to home?"

"My Dad lives here and he owns the place," The kid explains, "So I work Wednesdays, Fridays, and weekends."

"Oh," I clear my throat, "Okay, well, have a goodnight. Drive safe."

"Thanks, see ya!"

I close the door and roll my eyes as I walk back into the living room. "Pizza!"

"Yay!" Jolyon shuffles on his knees over to the coffee table.

I open up the box and set it down. "Half cheese, half olives." I playfully scrunch my nose to convey disgust.

"Olives are good!" Jolyon giggles.

"Not on pizza." I put a slice on a paper plate for him.

"Dad puts lots of stuff on his pizza," He nibbles the side of his pizza.

I smile lightly, unpausing the movie. "Olives, too?"

"Yeah," Jolyon nods, "I picked it all off and then, I'd ate just the olives on the pizza."

"Hm." I nod, eating my pizza.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"How come he doesn't come to our house?"

I lower my eyes. "Um, because he lives all the way in Texas."

"He can't drive here?" Jolyon asks innocently. "It's too far?"

"Well, he can, but he has to go to work, just like me, and so he can't just come visit whenever he wants."

Jolyon looks down at his pizza, a little forlornly. "Okay."

My knee bounces in thought. "You know, if you want, you can call him and talk to him on the phone."

He lifts his head. "I can?"

"Mhm," I nod with a plain line of a smile, "How about we try to call him after dinner?"

"Okay!"

After dinner, I tell Jolyon he has to wash up before we can call. That was the shortest bath I think he's ever taken. I get him in his pjs and have him brush his teeth, which he does hastily; asking "Now?", or "How 'bout now?" every three brushes.

Although reluctant, I dial the number that called me weeks ago, as promised. It rings, so I hand it to Jolyon, because I wouldn't know what to say to him, especially after not ever calling him back the first time.

I smile at Jolyon as he waits, but I start to grow a little nervous for him by the fourth ring. What the fuck gives? Why hasn't he picked up yet? He usually answers the phone promptly by the second ring. It's not like the guy has an active social life. I can picture now what he must be doing in that small, one-bedroom apartment of his.

Finally, I can hear the ringing turn over to the voicemail. Jolyon listens to his recorded voice telling him to leave a message with a pouty disappointment. The end of message is marked by a dull beep. Jolyon hands me over the phone.

"Leave a message, baby." I quietly encourage with a shoo of my hand, "Go ahead."

Jolyon looks unsure of what to do, or say, since he's never left a message before. "Hi," Is what he comes up with, before giving me the phone.

I sigh, but relent in taking the phone. I go to speak, but Jolyon's delay gave me no time. "Sorry, babe."

Jolyon shrugs his shoulders. "Can I sleep in your room?"

"Yeah."

 **...**

"Ms. Barnes?"

"Yes?"

Ravinder pokes her head into my empty classroom. "Oh, sorry, never mind."

"It's okay," I assure her as I faintly rock Jolyon as he sits on my lap, "What do you need?"

She cautiously enters the room. "Um, I hate to bother you, but the front office is closed."

"It's okay," I gently repeat, "What do you need?"

"My sister was suppose to give me a ride home, but she ditched me and I forgot to charge my cell phone last night. Could I please use your room phone to call my mom?"

"Of course," I nod to the phone that's attached to the wall by the door, "Press zero before you enter the number."

"Okay."

I watch quietly as she practically tiptoes over to the phone and gingerly takes it off the hook. Her shoulders wince at the somewhat loud thrum of the dial tone, looking back to mouth sorry, even though it's not loud enough to disturb Jolyon. Ravinder then hits zero and punches in numbers.

Jolyon inhales very softly and exhales a tad less so, as he becomes more and more in depth of sleep. I want to brush away the little half-dried stream of tears, but I dare not to avoid waking him up. I don't even know why I'm still here; I should just go home as soon as Ravinder gets off the phone.

She finally gets through, speaking to her mother in her dialect, explaining the situation, I suppose. She nods and then hangs up the phone. "She'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"Okay."

"Thanks, Ms. Barnes," Ravinder grips her backpack straps, "See ya tomorrow. I'm gonna go wait outside."

"You sure?" I ask, "It's a little nippy outside. You could wait here."

"Um, I guess I cou-" She turns at the motion of, you guessed it, Coach Negan opening the door the rest of the way and waltzing in.

"Patel," Negan casually saunters past her, "Brown nosing for extra credit?"

Ravinder chastens, lowering her head a little to conceal a blush. "I'll just go wait outside."

"Alright," I say, watching her go, before setting my disapproving eye on Negan, "Do you have to be an ass to literally everyone you talk to?"

"Yes," He smirks, leaning his arm on a file cabinet, "It tickles my balls."

"I had a feeling." I bleakly retort, continuing to sway Jolyon.

"What's wrong with the kid?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Negan points lazily, "I can see tears streaming down his face."

"Just a little meltdown," I lightly confess, "Toddlers are prone to that every now and then."

"No kidding?" He jokes. "What'd you do?"

"Something stupid." I tell him with no humor to my tone.

"I could've guessed that," Negan snickers quietly, "I meant specifics."

"Oh, well, that's specifically none of your business."

"Good one, dumb ass."

I sigh, "I'm not really in the mood to run lines with you at the moment."

His brows flinch concern for a split second. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's just..." I sigh, again, "I let him try to call his dad last night and he didn't answer."

"Ah," He nods, shifting his weight to the foot closest to the cabinet.

"This morning," I continue, "He asked if he called back yet and I made the dumb mistake of telling him that he'd probably call by time I picked him up from daycare."

"I take it this guy fucking made you a liar?"

"No, I made myself a liar," I correct, "I shouldn't have said that. I know he can be kind of a flake at times...but I thought he'd call back."

"Why not call him?"

"Because I don't want to," I answer honestly.

"Is he that big of an asshole?" Negan chuckles.

I open my mouth to speak, but Jolyon stirs in my arms.

"Mommy?" He furrows his sleepy eyes up at me.

I bear a warm smile. "Was I talking too loud?"

"I'm thirsty." He answers with a raspy voice as evidence.

"Okay," I scoot the two of us closer to my desk for the water bottle there, "Here you go."

Jolyon tips back the water bottle, curiously lifting his head from my shoulder when he spies Negan. "Hi."

"Hey, kiddo," Negan smirks, "How's it goin'?"

"Wanna play catch?" Jolyon inquires.

"Baby, we have to go home," I apologetically smile at him.

"Yeah, I should head home, too." Negan chimes in before Jolyon has time to tearfully object.

We all walk out of the school together. Negan must not carry anything other than his wallet, phone, and keys to work, because he doesn't go to his office after I lock my classroom. In the parking lot, a silly little tune enters the air, sounding like it's approaching this direction. Oh, shit. I think it's the-

"Mom, the ice cream truck!" Jolyon puts his hands around my legs, imploringly.

"Uh, you are not getting into my car with a dripping-"

"Here, kid." Negan hands my son two dollars from his wallet. Jolyon takes the dollars and looks up at me with an eager hopefulness.

I roll my eyes. "Okay, fine, but you're not getting the car with it."

"Yay!"

"Yay." I blandly cheer, scowling at Negan as I follow Jolyon to the sidewalk, where the ice cream truck is pulling over. When Jolyon pays the guy for a Ninja Turtle popsicle, we turn around to walk back to our car. I see Negan's not left for home yet. "Thanks for undermining my authority."

"Where's my fuckin' change?" He grins.

"You didn't have change, dipshit," I retort, "It came to two-fifty."

"Seems a little fucking pricey."

"Imagine what it must fucking be during the summer," I crassly quip, "Say thank you, Jol."

"Thank you." Jolyon tells Negan, while digging the gumball eyes out of the character and tossing them on the ground.

"Sure thing."

"Well, good night." I sit on the bumper of my Jeep.

"Not leaving yet?" He raises his brow.

"Not until he finishes the popsicle, thanks."

Negan licks his lips, smiling. "I was cheering up your boy."

I scoff, starting to make a smart-ass remark, but instead soften my features. "Thank you."

"Yep." He goes to kiss me, but I move my head to the left.

"I can't," I murmur, looking over to Jolyon, sucking on his popsicle and glancing up at the two of us without a clue.

Negan briefly looks his way, too, before nodding. "Alright," He says, tucking some of my hair behind my ear, "See ya tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye!" Jolyon parrots, waving at Negan.

"Bye." Negan puts hand up towards to Jolyon, before peering over at me, and then turning to walk to his car.

 **...**

"Have a nice night," I yawn to the customer exiting that was rather difficult for no good reason, "Asshole."

"What?" Louis tilts his head from the cook's window.

"Nothing." I pocket the fifty-cent tip into my apron pocket. Yes, I said fifty cents. As in that douche bag that had his perfectly, as ordered, food sent back three times left a fifty fucking cent tip. I hope that lady that he was yammering to over the phone dumps him.

The clock says ten after midnight. Wonderful. I do all the crap I'm suppose to do with no urgency, since once I'm done, I'll be sitting around doing nothing until six. When I've done everything, I just dance a little, out of Louis' sight, to the jukebox music. Nothing impressive, mind you. I'm tired after a hell of a week, so I just languidly sway and step like I'm high or exhausted, occasionally lip-syncing the words.

Hey, speaking of high...I've still got those joints in my purse. I halt in place when I remember the zipped pocket where they lay in hiding. I could just slip out for a smoke break and take one instead of a cigarette. What am I thinking? Smoking pot at the job I don't even technically need. That would be stupid and reckless.

I nonchalantly tread over to behind the counter and find my purse underneath, on top of the box of napkins. I look in through the window at Louis who's sitting on a chair in the kitchen, playing solitaire where he'd normally cut the vegetables.

"Hey," I get his attention, "I'm gonna go smoke."

"Alright." He nods, focusing back to his cards.

I take up my zip up hoodie and leave the diner. It's a cool night, so I decide to walk out to my Jeep that's parked halfway from the restaurant. I open the trunk up and climb on in. I strike up the lighter and put the flame delicately to the tip of the spliff. While smoking, I watch the cat that lurks around the dumpster try to figure out how to get in without fail.

From my back window, I spy a car's headlights shine forward as the vehicle enters the lot. The truck's familiar; I've rid in it before. The driver parks about five spots to the left of me. He gets out and as soon as he comes around from the driver's side, he spots me.

"Hey."

"Hey." I smoke curiously as Dwight casually approaches my trunk.

"Haven't seen you here in awhile." He says.

"Nope," I exhale, "I'll get you coffee and menu in a minute."

"No hurries," He reaches into his pocket for his lighter and pack, "Is that pot?"

"Are you gonna rat me out?" I dryly joke.

Dwight looks down for a minute. "Mind if I smoke with you?"

"Not at all," I push myself closer to the edge, dangling my feet over, "Sit."

"That's okay, I'm good." He lights a cigarette.

I glance him over while he looks at the cigarette between his fingers. "So, how have you been since we last talked?"

"Fine," He blandly answers, "You?"

I shake my head, putting my joint up to my lips. "Peachy keen."

"What about your kid?"

"He's good."

He nods. "Good."

I swing my leg a little. "Hey, D?"

"Yeah?"

I flick my ash, before looking him in the eyes. "I still love you."

Dwight silently stares at me and I feel a seam rip inside me.

"I thought you should know," I dab the joint out on the bottom of my scuffed white shoes, "Or maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. I don't know."

His eyes trail down to my shoe, which probably has some ash mark on the bottom, as he remains silent.

I nod my head, running a hand under my nose irritably. "Okay."

I shrug my hoodie off and toss it behind me. I put my hand on the top mouth of the trunk to climb out, when I'm stopped by the subtle feel of his hand on my knee. I peer down at it and then up at him.

Dwight's hand becomes firmer as it moves slightly up my leg. He turns his body ever so steadily, gazing carefully at me, and keeping his hand on my bare flesh. I take his hand in mine and hold it to my leg, maybe even encouraging it up. His other hand flicks the cigarette and the butt doesn't have time to hit the ground, before he pounces.

He completely hauls himself to me, standing in front me as I'm still seated and taking my face passionately between his hands. Our mouths desperately crash against each other. Our hands wildly try to make sense of what to do. On the side of each other's faces, in the other's hair, or in some feverish embrace; it seems like neither of us can settle on where to put our hands, except on each other.

A feeling twinges between my legs, causing me to breathe fretfully against his mouth. Dwight runs a hand up my dress, squeezing the side of my thigh. I push myself back more into the trunk of my Jeep. He climbs into the trunk a pace behind me. I sit up on my elbows as he hovers over me, meeting his lips again when he's close enough. His body touching mine only makes the feeling intensify. Dwight sits up between my legs.

I hear the clinking of him undoing his belt, so I push my uniform up and hastily try to get my underwear down. Dwight helps me get them past my knees, before he moves himself back between my legs. He leans over to put his mouth back on mine and when he does, I can feel his erection at my entrance. I wrap my arms around him to bring us closer. His hand reaches down between us and a moment later, I gasp as he enters me.

He lets out an alleviated moan, before he begins bucking his hips. I immediately feel myself close to coming and his mouth on my neck accelerates me. Everything feels so heavy, and good, and rising so quickly. I let out a moan from the back of my throat as I pique, shutting under him. Dwight kisses my lips as he keeps going.

"Oh, Dwight." I mewl, exasperated, putting my arm around the back of his head to encourage him.

Dwight moans while thrusting, picking the pace up a little and possibility cursing under his breath. I feel another orgasm rolling up the hill and so I tilt my hips up underneath him, peppering his jaw with wanton kisses. His breathing becomes more and more shortened between moans, which in turn, heightens my arousal.

I come again, feeling myself tighten around him as he bucks in and out. "Dwight!"

He groans, before abruptly pulling out of me. He hovers over me, catching his breath. I look up at him with soft eyes, slowly trying to steady my breathing as well. Dwight gazes down at me with a mild, yet unreadable expression. The trickle of warm spill on my tummy and thighs annoys me. I extend my hand to the side, sightlessly reaching for my jacket. Dwight sighs, putting himself back into his boxers. He leans over and hands me my jacket.

"Thanks." I rasp. He nods, buttoning his jeans. I clean myself off and then push myself back to sit up. I draw my panties back up, getting on my knees to secure them at the waist. I then try to smooth down my dress, sort of waiting for him to say something.

When he's fastened his belt, he puts his hand on his knees and lets out an uneasy sigh. He looks at his watch. "I should go home."

I nod my head dully. "Yeah."

Dwight glances over my way and hesitates before climbing out of the back of my car. I push myself out as well, suddenly feeling angry and embarrassed. He puts his hand out for me to take, but I shake my head.

"No, I got it." I look over towards the diner to make sure Louis isn't wondering where I'm at. I turn my head back towards Dwight, who's ran his hand down his mouth. "Are you okay?"

"No." He answers.

I close down my trunk. "Well, good night."

"Yeah, good night." He turns to walk back to his car.

"Dwight, wait!" I walk after him, but I don't have to for long, because he stops almost immediately. "Let's...let's talk about this. We can't just-"

"I just want to go home, Pippa," Dwight sighs, not looking my way, "I'll talk to you later."

A bending in me makes me breath unsteadily through my nose. "Okay."

 **...**

"Eat, Mom." Jolyon chews on a piece of scrambled egg.

"Use your fork, please." I point to the utensil on the napkin to his left.

"Do you not like your food?"

"I do, babe, I'm just not that hungry," I sip some of my coffee.

"Can I have your toast?"

"All yours." I push the little plate towards him.

"Put some of this on, please." Jolyon hands me a little package of blackberry jam.

"Alright." My eyes trail over to one of the doors of the pancake house opening, as I peel back the jam lid.

After what happened last night, I told Louis I wasn't feeling well and he gave me the go ahead to leave early. I went to my parent's house to go to bed, because I knew if I went home, I'd drink until I passed out. I drove all the way here, because I didn't want to sit home all day either.

"Can I get some coffee?" Negan asks the waitress as he stalks over, pointing to our table.

"Hi!" Jolyon smiles.

"Hey." Negan greets back.

I smile as he sits down next to me. "Thanks for meeting me."

"I didn't know that it needed to be said," He sighs, "But don't fucking call me at home."

"I didn't call you."

"Pippa." Negan gives me a daunting look.

"I'm sorry," My smile lessens, "I just-"

"You're lucky my wife's a heavy sleeper."

I turn away from him and rest my cheek in my hand, watching Jolyon eat and feeling like a scolded child. The waitress brings Negan his coffee.

"Can I get you a menu?" She asks him.

"No, I'm good." He replies, soberly. He waits until she's walked off, before he resumes talking to me. "Mind passing me the sugar?"

"Sure." I slide the dish with all the packets of sugar towards him, not looking at him.

"So, why'd you want to see me?" Negan stirs a spoon around in his coffee.

"I didn't say I wanted to see you." I scoff, scraping some jam on the other toast for Jolyon.

"Really?" He turns his head my way.

"Really," I retort, "I just asked if you could meet me."

"You said you wanted to see me."

"No, I didn't."

Negan reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Should I fuckin' read the message?" I don't respond, so he sighs, "Alright."

"Don't," I cut him off before he can utter a syllable, "Please."

He sticks his phone back in his pocket. "That's what I fuckin' thought."

My eyes water a little, but I manage to fight them down. "You can leave if you want."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Negan scoffs, incredulously, "Did I not fucking meet your expectations?"

"Why did you come, if you didn't want to?"

"You said you wanted to see me."

"So?" I huff, glancing over at him, which, for some reason, slightly relaxes his grimace. "You could've have told me to fuck off."

Negan's eyes scan my face, before he looks forward, drinking his coffee. "You gonna eat your pancakes?"

I push the plate to him. "Here."

"Pass the syrup."

"Go fuck yourself." I look over at Jolyon who's paused his meal at my swear. "Sorry, Jol."

"Real mature, mother." Negan leans over and extends his arm to get the syrup.

I sit there in the booth, watching both of them eat. "Will she be mad?"

"No," He shakes his head, drizzling syrup over the blueberry pancake stack, "She won't be up until eight. I told her I was getting donuts."

"She believe that?" I ask.

"Why did you want to see me?" Negan looks at me. "The kid's here, so it's not like we can fucking doing anything beside sit here and fucking eat pancakes."

"I..." I glance away for a moment to think, "I'm sorry."

Negan doesn't say anything, at first. He just observes my not so cool air, then cuts into the pancakes. " At least, I got a free breakfast out of it."

I return my eyes his way. "Are you mad at me?"

He chews his food, sighs through his nose, and then swallows. "A little bit."

"I'm sorry," I put my hand on his leg, "I just wanted to see you."

He shifts in his seat, curiously looking back at me. " Why?"

"I just...just did."

He squints his eyes, slowly beginning to smile. "Who the fuck are you and what the fuck have you done with Pippa?"

I chuckle airily, lowering my gaze and, without trying, my smile. I take my hand off his leg and place it together with the other in my lap.

"Mommy, here." Jolyon hands me the cherry that sat on top of his smiley face pancake as a nose.

"Want me to cut up the pancake?" I ask him, pulling the plate my way.

"I want the red syrup, Mom."

"Okay." I use the dull butter knife and fork to cut the pancake into small, nearly perfect squares. I then pour some strawberry syrup over the mess of pancake, whip cream, and chocolate chips. "There you go."

"Here!" Jolyon hands me a piece with a semi-melted chocolate chip, because the chip is semi-melted.

"Thanks." I huff, setting the bite down on the empty toast plate.

"Not hungry?" Negan observes, while he lifts his coffee mug up, giving it a little tilt to indicate to the waitress for a refill.

"Not really?" I answer.

"Why'd you order food then?"

"Why for you, of course," I wryly jest, pushing my mug forward a little so that the waitress will fill mine, too, " I thought was, but I wasn't."

"What the hell's up?" He reaches across me for the sugar.

"Why the fuck does anything have to up for me to call you?" I frustratingly respond.

Negan shrugs. "Because you don't seem like the needy type."

"I'm not," I claim, irritated, "I don't need you."

"Then why the fuck am I here?"

My eyes swiftly dart to Jolyon, who's preoccupied with his pancakes and color placemat. "I just wanted to see you."

"Wanted to see me?" He smirks, "Or needed to see me?"

I lean his way, looking him intently in his unfaltering eyes. "I don't need you and I certainly didn't fucking _need_ to see you."

Negan's piercing gaze stays fixed. "Damn, you must have had one hell of a night, huh?"

I, as much as it shames me to admit, falter. My brazen eyes become sullen and any humor or spirit I had fades. My facial muscles feel like they've made only a subtle transition, but it's enough. Negan can tell; I can read it in the way his cocky grin wanes a bit.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I grumble, looking down at lap, "Let's just fucking drop it."

He taps his fork against the plate for a minute. "Shit, I didn't fuckin' mean to make you cry, or nothin'."

I scoff. "I'm not crying."

"Good," Negan returns to eating my food, "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll ruin my image of you." He replies.

"And what image would that be?" I grin, half-amused.

"You're a badass bitch who single-mom's the hell out of shit and doesn't let anything fucking get to you, like the fucking world is your sidewalk." Negan glances back to me with a jerky, but oddly sincere smile. "The kind of gal that tells someone to go fuck themselves for asking for the syrup."

I smile a tired and grateful smile back at him. He winks at me, before sticking a forkful of pancake in his mouth. I take up my coffee and drink from it with a contentment as the waitress brings the check around.

* * *

 **Thank you to all who enjoy the story for your wonderful support! And thank CLTex and gokuhikaru82 for your lovely reviews of the last chapter.**

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's chapter and I hope you weren't expecting a romantic reunion between Dwight and Pippa, lol! If you were, well then, all I can say is maybe later... I try to look at the relationships (P/N and P/D) through each character's perspective and I went with how I felt from there with P/D's "reunion."**


	17. Chapter 17

"Are you taking Jolyon out for Halloween?"

"Yeah," I reply, sipping from my coke, "But only for an hour, two tops."

Lourdes nods. "Just around your neighborhood?"

"Um, no. Camden doesn't necessarily have suburbs, so all the houses tend to be a tad spread out."

She chuckles softly. "So, you'll be driving him from neighborhood to neighborhood?"

"Yeah."

"Why not come up this way?" Lourdes suggests, eating from her small bag of chips. "We have suburbs."

I glance down at my sandwich in thought. "I don't know."

"He'll do a lot more walking and it'll tire him out faster."

I smile into a laugh. "That does sound tempting."

She laughs back. "Come on, it'll fun, I'll go with you and take you guys around to all the good places."

"How do you know where all the good places are?"

"I've lived here my whole life and I've worked at this school for four years; I have the lowdown on all the hot spots."

I put the soda can down on my desk. "I guess it would be more fun for Jolyon, since this would be his first 'big kid' Halloween."

"Alright!" Lourdes cheers, before turning at the sound of a knock on my door.

Negan strides in with a grin that grows wicked when he locks eyes with Lourdes. "Ladies."

"We're kind of in the middle of something here," Lourdes mildly snaps, "So, if you don't mind, get the hell out."

"In the middle of something?" Negan raises his brows at her. "You're eating lunch."

"Yeah, well, we're in the middle of it, so piss off."

"Fuck, Lourdes, can't we let bygones be fucking bygones?" He retorts, tauntingly.

"No." She sharply answers.

"It's that good at home, huh?"

"You know what?" Lourdes sits up in her chair. "You need to-"

"Let's just step out in the hall for second, okay?" I rise up from my chair, much to Lourdes' surprise. "Go." I mouth to Negan, just before I pass him to the door.

I hear him chuckle, probably as some sort of ha-ha towards Lourdes. He steps out of the classroom right after me and smirks as I acridly close the door.

"What's so important?" I ask with a quiet tone.

"Nothing, I just wanted to see you." He tucks some hair behind my ear.

I move my head away. "Very cute, now what the fuck do you want?"

"To tell you that the team is traveling next Friday for a playoff game."

"Congratulations?" I knit my brows in confusion.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I didn't come for a fucking pat on the back."

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Because the game won't get over until late, so the school's boarding us at this shitty two- star hotel."

"How far?" I ask.

"Three hours out," Negan smiles, "So, I figured maybe you get someone to watch the kid and I'll give you my room key."

"How fun," I roll my eyes, "Waiting around in a hotel for a few hours to get screwed by some egotistical, high school football coach."

"I know," He steps closer to me, "So, what do you say?"

"Did you go down the list and ask the rest of your harem before me?"

Negan snickers, but shakes his head. "No, so what do you say?"

"I'll think about it." I answer.

"Cool," He pecks me on the lips before I know what hits me, "I'll see ya later."

"Yeah." I scoff, glancing over my shoulder as he goes to make sure no one saw that.

I enter my classroom to find Lourdes texting. She puts her phone down on the desk as soon as she sees me.

"Hey, what was that about?"

"Uh, nothing important," I chuckle to blow it off, "Negan being Negan."

"That's what concerns me." She replies with a look of uneasiness.

"What do you mean?" I ask, as if I innocently don't have a clue.

Lourdes seems like she's on the verge of telling me something. The bell rings, however, and quells her.

...

"Mom, what are those?" Jolyon points.

"Knitting needles." I answer, as we walk hand in hand down the aisle.

"Are we gonna get them?"

"No, Gran needs a sewing needle," I reply, "That's smaller."

I eventually find the type of sewing needle my mom needs in order to make Jolyon's Halloween costume down a different aisle. Now, we just have to wait for the lady at the counter to call our number, so we can get a few yards of the material I've got under my arm.

"Mommy, look at this one!" Jolyon puts his finger on a bundle of sequined polyester.

"Oh, yeah, that's a cool one."

The lady at the counter finally calls "35!" loudly and we go over. She's rather quiet and into her work, so I just stand there and watch her. Jolyon rests his head on my thigh as he wraps his arms around me. My mom texts me, asking if I got the needle. As I go to text her back, I see the texts that Dwight and I exchanged before our meeting in the park.

"Pippa!"

Both Jolyon and I turn our heads to where my name just came from. Sherry and her sister come strolling our way, smiling. God, I just looked at the damn messages, why the hell am I being punished?

"Hey, long time, no see!" Sherry says with a lovely smile.

"Yeah, it's been awhile," I smile back, obviously a little uncomfortable, "Hi." I say to Tina.

"Hi." She waves.

"So, what are you doing here?" Sherry asks politely.

"We're getting material for Jolyon's costume."

"I didn't know you could sew?"

I chuckle under my breath. "I can't, but my mom can. She made all mine and my sister's when we were kids, so she wants to make Jolyon's."

"How neat," Sherry beams, before looking down at Jolyon, "What are you gonna be?"

"A shark!" Jolyon answers enthusiastically. "I'm not ascared of them anymore."

"Wow, you are so brave!" She chuckles.

"What are you two doing here?" I ask, scratching my elbow.

"Tina wanted curtains for her dorm window, but didn't like any at the twenty odd stores we've been to today, so I suggested we just make them."

"Oh, you can sew?"

Tina snickers. "Sherry can't thread a needle!"

"Shut up!" Sherry gently jabs her ribs with her elbow. "Caroline knows how."

"Oh, yeah," I smile fondly, but I quickly force it down.

"Here you go." The lady at the counter folds the various fabrics and hands them to me.

"Thanks," I look back to Sherry and Tina, "I guess I'll see you around."

"Sure," Sherry nods, "Well, hey, if you're going trick 'r' treating on Friday, you should bring Jolyon by our house."

"Oh, okay, sure." Definitely not. I walk away from the counter. "Bye."

...

"Jolly, hold still, please." Mom says, trying to measure his waist.

"It tickles!" Jolyon laughs.

"Jolyon," I say with more authority than my mom, "Hold still."

Jolyon straightens up and only moves to turn his head towards the Thursday night football game that Dad's watching in the living room. "Look, Mom!"

"Yep." I nod, before returning to some papers I brought over to grade, while Mom makes the shark costume.

"Arms out," Mom instructs Jolyon, who does so, after flapping his arms like a bird.

"Mommy's friend does that." Jolyon points a finger to the screen.

"He does?"

"Yeah," He nods his head, "Right, Mom?"

"He coaches football, Jol, he doesn't play it."

"Yuh-huh," Jolyon argues, "He plays catch with me all the time."

Mom looks over my way. "Is it someone you work with?"

"He teaches P.E." I reply, nonchalantly.

"Is he handsome?"

I scoff. "...Yeah."

"How handsome?" She muses with a smirk.

"Too handsome for his own good." I smirk back.

"And he likes kids?"

"Yeah," I lower my eyes down to my work, "But it's not what you think."

"Oh," Mom stands up, "He's gay?"

"No, but...it's just not what you think."

"Mhm," She smiles, doubtful, "Alright, baby, you're free to go."

"Yay!" Jolyon hops off the stool we got from the bathroom and runs into the living room.

"So, this handsome P.E. teacher," My mom sits down at the table, starting to make marks of where to cut on the fabric, "Does he have a name?"

"Mom," I give her a heavy look.

"Okay, okay." She takes up her scissors.

I put one paper under the stack and start anew. "So, I was thinking about taking Jolyon to Southcastle for Halloween."

"Okay, but bring him by before you go."

"Yeah," I nod, "You know who I saw at the fabric store?"

"Who?" She asks.

"Sherry and her sister."

"She's...Dwight's wife, right?"

I bite the corner of my lip. "Yeah, she suggested we stop by their house, too."

"Oh, that's nice." Mom replies softly, cutting the fabric.

"...Mom?"

"Yes?"

I take quiet, deep breath, before I speak. "I have something I need to tell you."

Mom stops cutting and looks up. "What is it, honey?"

I look at her with a lump forming in my throat, as I try to tell her about what happened between Dwight and I at Lorelei's.

"What's the matter, Pippa?" She asks, slightly worried.

My eyes flicker to the living room, where I spot my dad look over, because of my mom's concerned tone. "Um, next Friday, there's an away game for the football team, " I explain as I chicken out of telling her what I really wanted to say, "I think it's like the finals, or play-offs, or whatever."

"Okay?" She knits her brows at me.

"Well, they need a second chaperone and I said I would see if I could be available."

"Oh, and you need your dad and I to watch Jolyon?"

"If you're tired of watching him, I completely understand and I can find a babysitter." I tell her.

"What? Of course, we don't mind!" Mom huffs. "We'd be happy to watch him for you."

"I know, but-"

"Pippa," Mom cuts me off, "When you were back in Austin, every time I would call you, you'd be sitting around your apartment, alone, or with Jolyon after he was born."

I sigh. "Yeah..."

"I'm happy that you're getting out of the house, so it doesn't bother me to watch Jolyon for you."

"Thanks, Mom." I feign a smile, unnerved that I didn't tell her what I wanted to tell her and that I'm lying about why I'm thinking about going.

...

Halloween night looks like it might rain, so I pack a jacket for Jolyon just in case. I decided to take Lourdes up on her offer and leave the brief visit at my parents' house to drive to Southcastle. Jolyon brings up "that lady" and how she wanted us to come by her house. I tell him that we don't have time to go to Sherry and Dwight's house, if we want to go to all the good places I told him Lourdes promised.

Simon's car is gone when we finally get there, which I'm not entirely bummed out about. Lourdes claims that he's been gone all week and won't be back until tomorrow. She leaves a bowl of candy that will probably be emptied by some asshole kid on the porch and turns out her lights, before we go.

She's right about knowing all the hot spots for candy. I think I might have to confiscate most of the full sized candy bars that Jolyon's received within the first thirty minutes of trick 'r' treating. He's so cute in his shark costume, which turned out great, insisting that he can go up to the doors himself like the older kids. Well, except the houses that are decorated really scary, then he'll indulge me in going up with him.

Lourdes really adores Jolyon. She keep laughing at all the cute things he says, or does. He seems to like her right back. He even asked if she wanted to hold hands while crossing the street, which she happily agreed to. It makes me wonder whether or not she would want kids of her own.

We wander street after street, cul-de-sac after cul-de-sac and if it weren't for Lourdes, I'm not sure I'd be able to find our way back to point A. An old mustang drives down the street we're about to hit and I think I recognize it, but the plates are out of sight before I can see.

"Shit." Lourdes utters under her breath as we continue down Caesar Street.

"What's wrong?" I inquire, somewhat nervous about her response.

"Nothing." She smiles, but I can tell it's not genuine.

"Mommy," Jolyon digs around in his pumpkin bucket, producing a small candy bar, "Here."

"Thanks, baby." I take it and read the label. It's a peanut butter cup, because Jolyon hates peanut butter and chocolate.

"Do you wanna pick?" Jolyon holds up his bucket for Lourdes.

"Aw, thanks, Jol." She giggles, taking a caramel apple sucker.

"Mommy, when we get home, you have to take out the butter cups, okay?"

"Okay." I laugh with Lourdes, eating the single candy.

"I'll be right back." Jolyon says, before walking up to another house.

I smile, looking over at the Lourdes, who's got her back turned from the house. My smile slowly drops at her peculiar avoidance, so I look at the house more closely...not that I've ever been here. Jolyon's behind a few older kids that wait for the resident to open up. The house looks relatively normal. In the dark, it seems like it's got an earthy gray hue with a brown roof and white trim behind a white picket fence and impeccable hedges. It's lit from within.

There's two cars parked in the driveway. A rather nice looking sports car and...oh. Now I see why Lourdes is acting weird. This is Negan's house. I hear the doorbell ring and it draws my attention to the door. It opens, but it isn't Negan who answers.

"Trick 'r' treat!" The crowd of kids says to the woman with a metal baking bowl on her hip.

"Wow!" She responds with a friendly smile. "You all look great!"

She reaches into the bowl and dispenses two or three pieces of candy in each bucket, or pillowcase. The kids thank her and shuffle around each other to either leave, or get up in line. Somehow in that shuffle, Jolyon gets engulfed in costumed obscurity and the door closes. He looks back at me, unsure, as the other kids disperse to the next house.

"Ring the doorbell!" I anxiously encourage him.

"I can't reach it!" He claims, trying to touch the doorbell that's just out of his reach on his tippy-toes.

"Uh," I sigh, walking up the walkway, "I'll help you."

When I get up to the welcome mat, I can see just barely through a thin, veil like curtain all the way into what looks like the living room. I quickly ring the bell and turn to book it the fuck back to the sidewalk. The door opens almost immediately.

"Trick 'r' treat!" Jolyon says cheerily.

"What a cute costume!" The woman raves. "Is it homemade?"

Fuck, I think she's talking to me. I turn halfway to see her looking at me for an answer. "Uh, yeah, it is."

"Well, it's a hell of a lot better than most costumes I've seen tonight." She smiles at me, before reaching into the bowl.

"Thanks." I murmur, hearing the volume of the television lower in the other room.

She's...stunning. Negan's wife is as beautiful as I thought she might be that night I caught a glimpse of her at the steakhouse. She looks to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties, with nearly black hair up in a messy bun.

"Thank you." Jolyon tells her, before walking away.

"You're welcome, happy Halloween!" She waves, then looks back at me, "Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too." I smile at her. _Thud!_

"Ow!" Jolyon grunts as he pushes himself off the pavement.

"Oh my god!" Lucille gasps. "I am so sorry!"

"It's okay," I assure her, helping Jolyon up, "You're okay, right?"

Jolyon shows me the minor scrapes on his hands. "My hands kind of sting."

"Let me get you something for that," She insists, before looking over her shoulder, "Honey!"

"No, really, it's fine." I politely protest. "He wasn't watching where he was going."

"I feel bad," She says, " I've asked my husband to fix that crack in the walkway a thousand times."

"It's really okay." I grin at her, slightly nudging him to go.

"Can I have a band aid?" Jolyon asks me.

"You're fine."

"But-"

"You're fine, Jol," I urge, "Go show Lourdes what you got."

"Can I at least get you a...disinfectant wipe from the first aid kit?" Lucille asks, "I really would-" She looks over at her husband, who's strolled up to her side from the living room. I stare at him, feeling a sense of being in trouble, because of his lukewarm expression. Lucille lightly smacks him in the shoulder with her back hand. "A kid just tripped on that fucking crack I keep telling you to do something about."

Negan looks out a Jolyon, who's giving Lourdes another piece of candy, before huffing. "That kid's just accident prone."

"Negan!" She sharply growls. She then looks at me. "I'm so-"

"Relax, Lu," He chuckles, glancing over at me with a toothy grin, "Pippa and I work together."

Lucille's eyebrows slowly gather up at him, before she peers my way. "Oh...really?"

"Yeah," I smile kindly, extending my hand, "Pippa Barnes, I just started teaching at S.H.S. this year."

"Lucille Addams," She shakes my hand with political form, "I work over at the school district."

"As the superintendent," I reply, "I've heard good things about you."

"Oh, well, I'm sure most of those were ironic," Lucille laughs, "Considering the high school gets dinged like a golf cart for their less than strict attitudes about the rules." She looks up at Negan with an arched brow. "Which exist for a reason."

"How come you're here and not in your town?" Negan inquires.

"Lourdes said there's more houses here." I answer, which causes both of them to peer out beyond me in faint, but evident displeasure. "Well, I'll let you go."

"Alright, have a good night!" She waves.

"Good night." I return, glancing casually at Negan. "Night."

"See ya Monday." He says with even less enthusiasm.

I walk against the trio of a witch, vampire, and Power Ranger towards Lourdes and Jolyon.

"Hey, what the hell was taking so long?" Lourdes asks, taking Jolyon's hand as we stroll to the next house.

"Um, I met Lucille." I blandly answer, wiping a drop that just hit my cheek.

"Shit." Lourdes curses quietly.

"Mommy, it's raining!"

...

The following week flies by fast and before I know it, I'm packing an overnight bag for the trip to a town called Rowlandson and arranged for my mom and dad to pick up Jolyon from daycare around noon, because that's when I'm suppose to be leaving. Technically, I won't be leaving until after work. I'm not a second chaperone like I told my mom. I'm a woman driving three hours to have sex with a married man in a two-star hotel.

I think typically the school would send a second person, aside from the bus driver, with Negan, but apparently there's no need in this case. The players on the varsity football team have probably been groomed since freshmen year in JV football to know better than to step out of line with Negan. The way he works is pretty diabolical. I saw it at the homecoming game and that one afternoon when the kid who talked shit was made to oversee the others, whom Negan punished instead. Some of them might hate him, but not enough to act out, or to not want his approval.

"Okay, you're gonna be extra good for Gran and Pop, right?" I hold Jolyon in my arms outside the daycare.

"Yes." He nods his head.

"If you're good," I whisper, "Maybe Gran will let you have four pieces of candy, instead of three."

"Can it be-"

"A full size does not count and Gran knows that." I cackle, kissing his cheek. "So, don't try to pull a fast one."

"Will you call me before bedtime?" Jolyon asks.

"Of course."

After school, I clock out two minutes after the final bell and gather up my purse and keys to leave. I purposely walk quicker than usual to avoid running into Lourdes, who kicked around the idea of going to the movies tonight earlier in the week. I get in my car and drive with map directions to the hotel.

I drive a little fast, so I get there quicker than the estimated time on the GPS. The hotel looks pretty decent and Negan left me a key to get through the back and to the room under the windshield wiper of his car. I text him to ask what time the game's over and he replies 'thirty minutes', so I go to the liquor store I passed on the way.

...

It's been nearly two and half hours since Negan told me the game would be over soon. I've literally been in this room for majority of the time. My trip to get some beer and food was short, so I'm bored out of my fucking skull and just as pissed. Part of me feels like an idiot for being here in the first place. Spending the night at home with Jolyon, or going to the movies with Lourdes seem like better options at this point.

My eyes listlessly stare at the cooking show on the T.V. screen, as I polish off the fourth beer from the six-pack. My phone buzzes on the right nightstand and I snatch it up, thinking it's gonna be Negan with some word. However, when I look at the number, I realize it's not him.

"Hello?"

"...Hey." Dwight quietly greets back.

I look around the small hotel room. "Um, hi, D."

"Did I wake you?"

I shake my head, looking at the clock on the wall. "No, I'm awake."

"Okay..."

"Are you...at home?" I ask.

"No," He answers, "I'm at a gas station about thirty miles from home."

"Oh...Well, what's up?"

"I, uh, I wanted to talk to you."

I scoff under my breath. "Funny, I wanted to talk to you the other night, but you-"

"I know," He claims, "But I just..."

"Wanted to go home?" I turn the volume down on the T.V.

"I cheated on my wife, Pip," Dwight sharply retorts, "I...I was ashamed and I didn't...the last thing I wanted was to talk about it, alright?"

I lower my gaze into my bare lap. "It was a mistake, D."

"No, it wasn't," He replies, sighing, "I mean, it was, but it wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Dwight scoffs and I can hear a car door close. "We kissed at Lorelei's before."

"Yeah, but-"

"And then we met at the park...and you said you had feelings for me and- and that you always have."

I take a swig of beer from the bottle, licking my lips before responding. "Dwight, I-"

"You said you loved me the other night." He says with a disheartened chuckle that seems like it could falter into tears. "I mean, why? Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true," I tell him, "I do love you."

"...Thirteen years? We haven't seen each other in thirteen years and you still love me?"

"Yeah," I huff at him, "It's as pathetic as it sounds."

Dwight sighs through his nose. "Okay."

"Are you alright?" I cock my brow. "You sound frazzled."

"Yeah, well, I haven't slept for two weeks."

"Look, don't get snippy with me, alright? I didn't call you, you called me."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just..."

"You just what?"

"I just...I keep telling myself I have to tell her, but I...I can't." Dwight confesses and the exhaustion is clearer in his voice.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, because I've never...been on that side of things before."

He scoffs. "I'm not calling for advice, Pippa."

"Then what are you calling for?" I press, maybe a little too tipsy to be sympathetic.

"...I love Sherry. I love my wife. We're happy together."

"Okay," I nod my head, "So, then I guess we better pretend the town's a lot bigger than it is, huh?"

"...I don't want that."

"Well, what do you want then?"

"I want to be friends, or at least to be able to live in the same town without having to avoid you."

I exhale, closing my eyes for a minute. "D, I don't think that's doable. Maybe it was before, but now...we had sex. We kissed on the side of Lorelei's, we told each other how we felt, and then had sex. I don't think that's something that can just be ignored and you want to come clean to Sherry and once you do, she'll want you to break all contact with me and I can't say I'd blame her."

"If she doesn't leave me, you mean?" Dwight clears his throat.

"I guess..."

"I don't want to break contact with you."

"Well, that's a compromise you'll have to make, if you tell her and she's willing to give you another chance." I explain solemnly.

He sighs heavily. "Maybe I won't tell her."

"Think that's a good idea?" I chuckle snidely.

"Well, I don't know, but if it only happened once, then maybe it'll be better if she doesn't know, right?" His tone of voice sounds almost pleading for validation. "Like what's the point of hurting her, if it doesn't happen again?"

"I don't know, Dwight," I lay back on the bed, rubbing my brow, "I wish I could tell you that you'd be right to do that, but I don't fucking know, so I can't."

"...Yeah."

"Yeah." I sigh back.

There's some small noise in the background, followed by the striking of a lighter. "Know what I was thinking about today when I was on the road?"

"Hm?"

"When your cheer team had that bake sale and you invited me over to make the brownies you signed up for."

I snicker. "You offered."

"I offered to help."

"I gave you credit, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't."

We both laugh a little under our breaths. My humored smile lessens when I hear a multitude of voices coming down the hall. "Listen, I gotta go."

"Oh, okay." Dwight seems disappointed.

"Maybe..." I hesitate, knowing that what I'm about to say isn't the right thing to say, "Maybe we can talk later."

"Yeah...yeah, okay."

I get a little nervous when Negan's voice can be heard on the other side of the door. "Okay...when?"

"Uh, how about tomorrow around the same time?"

"Alright," A little smile tips up on my face, "I'll talk to you then."

"...Okay, bye, Pippa."

"Bye, Dwight."

I hang up the phone and look up at the ceiling, feeling silly for the smile that graces my face. Negan's tone of voice seems to be slightly praising and then a roar of tired cheering follows. I sit up on my knees as I hear the beep before the door unlocks and it opens. Negan comes into the room and instantly spies my unsatisfactory expression.

He smiles, and then whistles. "What a lovely set you've got."

I cross my arms over the lace bra that's part of a lingerie set. "You said the game would be over by six-thirty."

"Yeah, it was." He sits down on the edge of the bed to take his shoes off.

"Well, that was two and half fucking hours ago!"

"Sh!" He sharply whispers, "Shut your fucking gob, would ya? You're not supposed to be here."

"Where the hell were you?" I whisper back, still irritated. "I've been waiting here!"

"Well, excuse me, your fuckin' majesty, but I figured that it was my responsibility to feed the team after the game. So, that's where I was."

I exhale. "This is exactly why I didn't want to come. I knew I'd be sitting in here all fucking night."

"Yet here you fuckin' are." He retorts.

I roll my eyes. "I'm tired, so if we're gonna do this, then let's hop to it."

He chuckles as he stands and faces me. "I'm gonna take a shower, before I do anything, but you're more than welcome to join me."

"I already took one, so no thanks," I kiss him when he leans down, "Don't take too long, or else I'm going to bed."

"Yes, ma'am." Negan snickers, before going to the bathroom.

"Did you call your wife?"

"What?" He says with an echo from the bathroom tiles.

I go in and sit myself up on the counter, watching him undress. "Did you call Lucille?"

"Why would I?" Negan knits his brows as he undoes his belt, after turning on the shower.

"To tell her you got here safely, or that you won the game."

He scoffs. "Yeah, I called her."

I grin softly. "Good."

"Why is that good?" He asks, peering at me from over the shower curtain.

I shrug. "I don't know." I look down at my nails. "She didn't seem too pleased to see Lourdes."

Negan laughs as he lathers up some hotel soap. "No, she wasn't."

"Does she...does she know about you and-"

"She thought your kid was cute as fuck," He clear his throat, "Gushed on about his fucking costume and dimples, or some shit."

I twist my mouth to the side. "She likes kids?"

"Kinda hard to have a career in education and not like kids." He says, smoothing his hair back under the water.

"Well, then how come..." I stop myself from making what could be a mistake, or at least a boner killer tonight.

"What?" Negan asks, not hearing what I said, or that I hadn't finished.

I put a smirk on my face. "Hurry up."

"Get in." He retorts with a smile.

I shake my head. "Hurry up."

I hop off the counter and saunter out of the bathroom. The water shuts up a second later.

"How much of that six pack is left?"

I tip back the last of my beer. "I didn't buy it to share."

"I didn't fuckin' think so," Negan chuckles, walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, "But I figured you could be nice and fucking spare me one."

"I don't want to be nice," I cackle, letting him pull me in, "But if you want, I can sell you one."

He grins. "Bitch."

I lightly bite the tip of my tongue to stifle a laugh, as I smile mischievously at him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Negan cackles, before setting his lips down on mine. I tip myself up on my toes to put my arms around his neck. He steps forward and I backwards, until we reach the bed where we collapse. I let out a hushed giggle as my back hits the weird, stiff quilt. He snickers, too, and caresses his hand down my hip, moving to take down my panties.

"Oh, wait a second," I reach above me to grab my phone, "Let me put it on the nightstand."

Negan moves his mouth down my flesh. "How about you just toss it out of reach, so you won't fuckin' answer it if it rings?"

I roll myself over and army crawl closer to the nightstand. "Afraid someone else will better company?"

His hand snakes around my tummy and pulls me back. "I don't think I have to fucking worry about that."

I moan with my mouth closed at the feel of him hardening against me, but my eyes can't help but to glance back at the phone. "Don't be so sure."

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! I love the awesome and honest feedback and support.**


	18. Chapter 18

I'm stirred out of my sleep by a light shaking of my shoulder. My eyelids bleakly open, only to drop again in sleepiness.

Negan rattles me more. "Hey, wake the fuck up!"

"Cut it out!" I groan, rubbing my eye.

"It's almost eight." He reports.

"So?"

"So, the bus leaves at eight-fifteen and I gotta leave when it does."

"That's not my concern." I open my eyes, giving him a tired smile.

His eyes travel down to my nakedness just visible below the starchy hotel sheets. "I've been up since five in the fucking morning, hoping you'd wake up before I had to leave."

"Well, I'm tired, you inconsiderate horndog."

Negan's nearly perfect teeth peek out behind his grin. "Are you tired because I wore you out last night?"

I scoff, "No, it's called being a single mom, which entails a perpetual state of exhaustion."

He chuckles, traipsing his hand up my body. "Anyone ever tell you that you could charge?"

"Mhm," I snicker, nodding my head, "So, that'll be two hundred for the night, daddy-o."

"You're selling yourself short there, champ." Negan lustfully kisses my neck.

I laugh out, lightly pushing him back. "I guess you should get up."

His hand delves between my legs. "We've got ten minutes."

"Actually," I playfully give it back to him, "I want to hit the road early."

"You can't leave the room until after we've left."

I look over my shoulder at him as I slide myself towards the edge of the bed. "Why?"

He sits up. "Because the kids can't fuckin' see you and know that you were here."

I stroll into the bathroom. "That blows."

"Not as good as you." Negan chuckles as he enters.

"Shut up." I laugh, stepping into the shower.

Negan gets in before I close the curtain. "We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah," I huff, washing my face in the shower stream, "Sneaking around in a shitty hotel is quite the adventure."

"You seemed to have enjoyed yourself last night."

"That's what you paid for." I turn to face him with a smirk.

Negan snakes a hand around to my butt. "Money well spent."

After the shower, Negan gets dressed and leaves the room into the hall where there's some chatter from some of the players in the hall. I listen to Negan bang on two or three doors, shouting for the rest of them to "fucking hustle"; while I dress myself in the clothes I wore yesterday. When the coast is clear, I exit the room, stop by the crappy continental breakfast, and then I leave to go home.

 **...**

"Mommy, the water won't come out." Jolyon whines from his bathroom.

"Turn the handle towards you, baby."

"It's not working!"

I look in and see that both the hot and cold handles are on, but no water's coming out, except a few drops. I just paid the water bill, so I know it can't be that. I turn them off and on again, but that doesn't work. Great.

"Okay, let's go use my sink." I scoop up the stepstool once he gets off it to run to my room. My phone rings and I go to it, knowing it has to be Dwight. "Hello?"

"Hi," He dryly greets.

"Where are you?" I ask cautiously.

"In my backyard." Dwight answers with a flat tone.

"Is Sherry there?" I set the stool down by the sink, so Jolyon can brush his teeth.

"No," He claims, "She and my mom went to a movie."

"Oh," I bite the corner of my lip, "So, I take it you didn't tell her."

"Um, no, I didn't." D clears his throat.

"Are you going to?'

"I don't know," He sighs.

I snap my fingers to get Jolyon's attention. "Close the medicine cabinet."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, I was talking to Jolyon." I look at Jolyon in the mirror and mouth for him to spit and rinse.

"Oh," He says, "Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's okay."

"You sure? I can call back in a little bit."

"No, really," I assure him, "We're just getting ready for bed." Jolyon hops off the stool and runs out of the bathroom.

"Okay," Dwight strikes his lighter, "Um...how was your day?"

"Fine," I report, "I just ran some errands with my mom and cleaned thrown up m&m's out of the backseat of my car. What about you?"

"I went to the store with Sherry and...that's pretty much it."

I chuckle, leaning on the doorframe. "We're living the life."

Dwight scoffs. "Yeah."

"Mommy, put on your pjs!" Jolyon breathily shouts as he jumps on my bed.

"In a minute," I smile at him, signaling for him to stop jumping, "Hey, do you happen to know a good plumber? I think something's wrong with one of my bathroom sinks."

"Uh, no, sorry," Dwight replies, "I usually fix shit like that at our house."

"Oh, that's okay. I'm sure my parents know someone."

"Well, if you want, I could maybe come over and take a look." He offers.

I take my shirt off and toss it in the hamper. "Oh, are you sure?"

"Yeah," He answers confidently, "If you want."

"Okay," I remove my bra after I put my Lorelei's t-shirt on, "When can you come over?"

"I'm free tomorrow."

"Alright. How's eleven sound?"

"That's fine."

"Okay, then," I slip on my pajama shorts with a yawn.

"I'll let you go."

I nod my head. "Okay, goodnight."

"Night." Dwight says, before he hangs up.

I set my phone on the dresser, before turning to face Jolyon, standing on my bed. "I said no jumping."

"I'm not," Jolyon giggles, pointing at me, "I saw your boob!"

"You did not." I walk to the right side of the bed.

"Yes, I did, Mom." He wades over to that side, leaping in utter trust that I'll catch him. I wrap my arms around him and peppering his cheek with kisses.

 **...**

 _"Alright, I'm going to the store!" Caroline calls out, grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter and heading for the front door._

 _"Okay." Dwight and I say in unison._

 _Ten minutes after she leaves, I close my homework binder. "I'm done."_

 _"What'd you get for number twenty?"_

 _"Aorta." I answer._

 _Dwight writes it down, and then closes his notebook. "Done."_

 _I smile, standing up from the carpet by the coffee table. "Wanna go to the river?"_

 _"Can't," D scoffs at me, "My mom took my keys for ditching, remember?"_

 _"We'll walk it." I nudge his leg with my foot. "C'mon."_

 _"You're a bad influence." He sighs, getting up from the couch._

 _"And you're a good follower." I tease._

 _It takes us about twenty minutes to walk down to the river, carrying the dingy together on each end._

 _"How far do you wanna go?" Dwight asks, dipping the paddle into the water._

 _"Mm, let's drift on after we pass out of sight."_

 _"Okay."_

 _Dwight does all the rowing. I just sit toward the bow of the dingy, watching him drive us further from the few spread of houses that live close to the river. It doesn't take long for us to be alone._

 _I rest my chin on my arm that extends overboard. I lazily swirl my finger tips in the clear green water, as Dwight turns his baseball cap backwards now that the trees give us some shade. He takes out a pocketknife and some whittled wood from the backpack we brought with water and a first aid kid inside._

 _"Hey, D?" I'm the first to speak after some time._

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"Do you think I'm a slut?" I shyly inquire, staring at the water._

 _"What?" Dwight chuckles, looking up from his carving. "Why would I?"_

 _I turn my head to glance his way, serious. "Because I let you touch my tits without my bra on."_

 _His humored smile lowers and he timidly looks back down. "Oh."_

 _"Well, do you?"_

 _"No."_

 _I swish my hand in the water, still staring at him. "Okay."_

 _"What made you think that?" D asks._

 _I shrug. "Sherry McKee said something yesterday at practice that messed with my head."_

 _"Who's Sherry McKee?"_

 _"You know, Sherry," I scoff, humored by his bewildered look, "She's in our bio class."_

 _"Oh, that Sherry," Dwight nods, "What'd she say?"_

 _"Well, her boyfriend, Dean, he wanted her to take her shirt off when they were making out."_

 _"Should you be telling me this?"_

 _"Are you gonna tell anyone?" I ask._

 _Dwight shakes his head. "No."_

 _"Okay, then," I continue, "Anyway, she did it and then a month later, he said that nice girls don't do that and called her a slut. Then he broke up with her."_

 _"But he wanted her to do it." Dwight scoffs._

 _"I know!" I sit up._

 _"Dean's always been a dick."_

 _"Yeah..." I nod in agreement, before peering over at him, "So, you don't think I'm a slut?"_

 _"No, I don't think you're a slut." He assures me._

 _I smile softly at him. "Okay." My eyes then travel to the figure taking shape as he cuts away pieces of wood. "Whatcha making?"_

 _Dwight looks up and turns the figure towards me. I focus down at the small, but recognizable features and my smile grows._

 _"It's beautiful." I remark._

 _He turns it back towards him and continues to work at it. "You're beautiful."_

 **...**

"Good morning!" Lourdes practically sings over the phone.

"Morning." I yawn.

"Did I wake you?" She chuckles.

Jolyon stirs, asleep, clinging to me. "No, it's okay," I softly tell her as I pet his head.

"Good," She says, "What are you doing today?"

"Well, I have someone coming over in four hours to look at my sink, but it shouldn't take long," I relay, "Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go to lunch and maybe get our toes done?"

"Um, well-"

"You can bring Jolyon."

I look down at him. "Well, that does sound like fun."

"Yay!" Lourdes cheers. "I'll be over around noon."

"Okay, see ya then."

"Bye!"

"Mommy?" Jolyon croaks.

"Good morning, sunshine," I scratch his head like a puppy.

He rubs his nose with his finger, before hiking it up one of his nostrils. "I'm cold."

I smile, slinking down into the blankets and wrapping my arms around him. "Stop picking your nose."

"I'm not picking my nose."

"Are you digging for gold?" I snicker.

"Yes!" He laughs, squirming in my arms.

"Want breakfast?"

"Can you make me toast?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"And scribbled eggs?"

I laugh, kissing his forehead. "Yes, I will make you scrambled eggs."

"With cheese!"

"With cheese," I get out of bed, "Alright, we got people coming over, so let's get up and Adam."

"We're having a party?" Jolyon stands up on my bed.

"No, babe," I pick him up and put him down on the floor, "Just Lourdes and-"

"Yay, I like Lourdes!"

"I know you do." I chuckles as I pad out of my bedroom.

"Is her dog coming, too?" Jolyon asks, taking my hand.

"No, honey, Cleo's her boyfriend's dog and I think she's gonna stay home with him."

"Aw!" Jolyon whines.

"I know."

"Is Negan coming over, too?" He inquires, climbing up on a chair by the kitchen table.

"Uh, no," I shake my head, while opening the fridge, "But Mommy's other friend is coming over to fix the sink."

"What friend?"

"...Dwight," I briefly glance over my shoulder, "You remember him, right?"

Jolyon is quiet for a few seconds, before he exclaims, "He was at the park!"

"Yeah." I say under my breath.

 **...**

Dwight arrives five minutes early, but doesn't come up to the porch right away. I see his truck pull up, while doing the dishes from breakfast, and I watch him smoke out by his trunk until eleven o'clock. As he walks out of sight from the window, I anxiously dry my hands and go to meet him at the door. The bell rings.

"It's Lourdes!" Jolyon runs to the door behind me.

"It's not Lourdes." I answer the door and immediately meet his eyes. "Hi."

"Hey," Dwight looks down at Jolyon at my hip, "Hi."

"What's that?" Jolyon points.

"That's a toolbox, baby," I answer, "D's here to fix the sink."

"The water won't come out, "Jolyon tells Dwight, "I brushed my teeth in my mom's bathroom."

Dwight smiles. "Well, maybe I can fix it, so you won't have to do that."

I lightly grin at him, but quickly remember my manners. "Oh, um, come in. Sorry."

"It's cool." Dwight walks into the house, shrugging off his jacket.

"Do you wanna see my nebla ball?" Jolyon asks him.

"Maybe later, Jol," I smooth my hand over his head, "Why don't you go watch Sesame Street?"

"Okay." Jolyon runs into the living room.

I snicker, before looking at Dwight and shyly losing my smile. "Thanks for coming."

"Sure," He nods, "Uh, what's a-"

"A nebula plasma ball?" I chuckle. "It's one of those things where it looks like lightning in the ball and when you touch your finger to it, the light follows you."

"Oh."

"His dad gave it to him," I tread down the hall, "For his birthday."

"I thought you said he wasn't in the picture." Dwight follows me to Jolyon's bathroom.

I show him in, staying by the doorframe. "He gave up his paternal rights," I numbly explain, "But I still let him have contact with Jolyon."

Dwight's brows knit in mild confusion. "Well, why...you know what? Never mind."

I fold my arms, rather glad he dropped the question. "So, where's Sherry?"

"At home." He tries to turn on the water, before getting down on his knees and opening up the cupboards.

"She could've come."

"To watch me fix your sink?"

"So, you can fix it?"

He nods, peering at the pipes. "Yeah."

"Good," I say, exhaling, "Well, she could've visited with me over coffee. I've got some Oreos left."

Dwight snickers. "Sherry doesn't really like junk food."

I scoff lightly. "I saw what was in your grocery cart."

"That stuff was mine."

"She doesn't eat any of it?" I ask, skeptical.

"None that she admits to," Dwight opens his toolbox, "Well, except pretzels."

"That hardly counts as junk food." I chuckle.

He shrugs in response.

"Do you want some coffee, or...water?"

"I'll take some water, please."

I nod and then walk off into the kitchen. I place a glass under flowing water and promptly go back to the bathroom.

"I'll set it down on the edge." I tell Dwight, carefully sliding past him into the bathroom and putting the glass of water on the square frame of the single sink.

"Thanks."

I notice a shower ring is loose, so I fasten it and then push the curtain all the way back to the right end of the tub. I then put the toilet lid down and sit. My eyes travel to him on the floor, tracing the shape of him from where I am.

I sharply breathe. "It's an easy fix?"

"Yeah,I think I'm almost done." He answers.

"Well, then I'm glad I didn't have to call someone I'd have to pay."

"You're not gonna pay me?" D glances over at me with a smart smile.

I smirk. "I'll give you a discount next time you're at Lorelei's."

He chuckles under his breath, then looks back under the sink.

"Mommy?" Jolyon runs to the doorway.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Can I go outside?" He asks me.

"In the backyard only." I permit.

"Okay!" He runs off.

"Put a jacket on!" I shout after him. "And your shoes!"

"It's not cold!" Jolyon calls back.

"Yes, it is!" I stand up.

"No, it's not!" He argues.

"Excuse me," I gingerly step past Dwight, "Jolyon Christopher, you get in here and get your shoes and jacket on, or you can sit your butt in time out!"

"You're mean!" Jolyon groans, stomping to the front door where his shoes and jacket are.

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes at him, "I'm so mean for keeping you from getting a cold." Dwight laughs behind me, prompting me to turn to see his smile. "What?"

He puts his wrench in the box. "He sounds like you."

I huff, before laughing. "Was I a brat like him?"

"Don't call names!" Jolyon scowls, bringing me his shoes.

"Sorry." I apologize, trying not to laugh. I quickly slip on his rain boots and zip up the jacket he's got on. "Go on."

"Come out with me!"

"Maybe in a little bit." I say, nudging him to go play.

"Cute kid." Dwight snickers, standing.

"Yeah, when it's convenient for him." I chuckle, inspecting him taking a drink of water. "Done already?"

"Yeah, I think so," He sets the glass down, "Put your hand under the faucet."

I arch my brow and smile, puzzled, but I still stick my hand out. Dwight turns the hot water handle and water comes pouring out. "You did it!"

"It's hot?"

I wait as the water gradually warms up. "Yeah."

"Okay," He turns it off and then turns the cold handle, "How about now?"

"Cold," I smile, "Nice work."

"Thanks." Dwight sheepishly smiles.

My smile dwindles when I realize how comfortable I am right now. I clear my throat. "Um, if you want, I have like twenty bucks in my purse."

"Oh, no," He shakes his head, "I was joking about that. You don't have to pay me."

"Okay," I swallow down some spit, "Thanks again for coming."

"It's no problem." Dwight sighs.

I scratch my nose, looking behind me at the sound of my dryer's super cheery tune to indicate that the cycle's done. "God, that's so annoying," I glance back to Dwight, "My dryer sings when the clothes are done drying."

"Oh, ours did that, too," Dwight claims, "You can turn it off."

"How?"

"I'll show you."

"Okay," I start for the laundry room and he follows, "Here it is."

D goes over to the dryer and reaches behind it. "There should be a switch back here." There's a small click. "That should do it."

"Wow, can't you just fix it all?" I put my hands on my hips, impressed.

"Yeah, well, my grandpa always had a do-it-yourself attitude."

"Yeah," I sigh, "But he always was the first to lend a hand."

"Yep." Dwight nods.

I peek briefly out the little window into the backyard. "Well, I guess you get that from him, huh?"

"I guess."

I blink back to him. "Can I call you again?"

"Yeah, sure. Anything that needs fixing, just call me."

I nod my head. "Okay, but I meant...can I call you just to talk to you?"

"Oh," Dwight scratches his brow, "Yeah."

"Yeah?" I look more intently at him.

He licks his bottom lip. "Yeah." I start to smile, but then I inwardly kick myself and lower my gaze. "What?"

"What are we doing?" I push back tears. "Calling each other and saying it's okay to call each other?"

"I..." He exhales," I don't know. I like talking you."

I derisively chuckle, lifting my head to look at him. "I kind of wanted you to tell me not to call you, but...it felt good just now when you said I could."

Dwight stares at me. "It felt good talking to you last night and the night before."

"Yeah," I grin bleakly, "It felt good the other night, too."

"When we were in the back of your car?"

"Yeah," I hold my elbows, "I wish could say that it didn't, but it did."

"Because you still love me?"

I nod my head again. "Yes."

Dwight lets out a frustrated breath, running his hand down his mouth. "Shit."

I suddenly feel anguished, but I mask it by moving around him to open the dryer. "Well, I guess you should be on your way."

I scoop all the clothes out into a basket and slam the door in a huff. I glance up to find him still standing here, looking at me. I almost say goodbye to send him away, but I suddenly become reacquainted with the color of his eyes and it halts me. They're sometimes blue and sometimes the color of the river we spent ages. It's haunting in a way, at least for me. Dwight seems like he might step forward from the doorway. Or maybe not. Everything feels suspended.

"Mommy!" The slider glass door opens and Jolyon runs in.

I move some hair out of my face, breaking from the spell. "Yeah?"

"Lourdes is here!" Jolyon calls out. "I saw her from the backyard!"

"Okay!" I shout back, looking at Dwight. The doorbell rings a moment later. "My friend's at the door."

"Yeah," He clears his throat, "I should go home."

"Yeah."

We both walk to the front door to find that Jolyon's already answered the door. Lourdes smiles warmly at me. "Hey!"

"Hi," I smile, before I glance down at Jolyon, "What did I say about answering the door without me?"

"But it's Lourdes!"

Lourdes laughs, picking him up. "Yeah, Pip, it's me," She looks over at Dwight, "Oh, hello…"

"Hello." Dwight greets back with a polite smile.

"Oh, this is Dwight," I touch his shoulder, "You met him a while back at the beach."

"Oh, yeah." She nods.

"Dwight was fixing some stuff around my house," I add, awkwardly taking my hand from his shoulder, "But he's going home now, because he's done."

"Alright," Lourdes chuckles, looking at us weirdly, "Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, you, too," Dwight puts his jacket on, before turning to me, "I'll talk to you later?"

"Mhm." I smile.

"Mommy, you said he could see my nebla ball!"

"Baby, Dwight has-"

"No, it's okay," Dwight interjects, "I could check it out real quick."

Jolyon wiggles free from Lourdes and hurries past us. He then turns around and motions for Dwight to follow with a wave of his hand. "C'mon!"

"Okay." Dwight chuckles, following him.

I glance back to Lourdes, who's got a smirk on her face. "What's up?"

"You tell me." She snickers, removing her coat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I lean on the wall.

"Really?" She teases. "He fixed some things around your house?"

"Yeah," I scoff, smiling at her insinuations, "He fixed my sink and...flipped a switch on my dryer."

"He did he use his tool, or his hands?" Lourdes cackles, before straightening up at the sound of footsteps.

"Oh, yeah?" Dwight says.

"Yeah," Jolyon replies, "Right, Mom?"

"Uh, sure." I agree with no clue.

D smiles at me. "Well, I'm gonna go."

"Okay, I'll call you later."

"Okay, bye," He opens the door, "Bye, Jol. Bye..."

"Lourdes." Lourdes smiles.

"Lourdes." He takes one last glimpse my way, before leaving my house.

"He's cute." Lourdes states, cocking her brow my way with a wry smile. I roll my eyes at her and she laughs.

 **...**

So, I got a little bit of food poisoning at the place Lourdes took us to Sunday afternoon. I miserably drudged my way through half of Monday at work and, thank the gods, was able to go home by lunch, because Diane was able to get a hold of a sub. I spent all day and night puking and decided there was no way I was going in Tuesday.

I've been sitting in the living room with Jolyon all morning, watching cartoons and drifting in and out of a catlike siesta. My phone's on vibrate, so it buzzes on the coffee table. I groan at the noise.

"Jolyon."

"Hm?"

"Can you hand Mommy her phone, please?" I croak, facing the other side of the couch for some reason.

"Here!" Jolyon climbs on the couch.

"Thanks, babe." I see that I have text messages from both Lourdes and Negan. That's a fucking relief. I really didn't want to talk to anyone.

I open Lourdes' text first, which reads: _"Hey, how are you feeling? I am SO sorry! It's totally my fault!"_

 _"I'm fine,"_ I text her, followed by, _"It's not your fault. It's the restaurant's fault."_

 _"Simon has me convinced you have E. coli."_

 _"I don't have E. coli...I checked for symptoms online."_

Lourdes doesn't respond right away, so I open Negan's text.

 _"Are you dead?"_ He writes.

 _"No, asshole. I'm alive."_

 _"Pity."_

 _"What do you want?"_

 _"I was just checking on you,"_ Followed by, _"Bitch."_

I snicker to myself at his response. _"Are your other play-things too busy to be bothered?"_

" _Don't know. Haven't asked."_

 _"The new car smell hasn't worn off on me yet?"_

 _"You smell better than a new car."_

 _"Thanks...So, what do you want?"_

 _"Is the kid around?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Never mind."_

 _"Pervert."_

Lourdes responds to my last text with; _"Keep me posted!"_ So, I quickly respond with a confirmation that I will, before reading Negan's response to my text to him.

 _"Too good for phone sex?"_

 _"Too lazy,"_ I retort, _"I'd rather screw you than talk about screwing you."_

 _"I think I love you."_

 _"And I think you're a good friend,"_ The doorbell rings and so I send a quick, _"I gotta go, I'll talk to you later."_

I open the door and...Dwight's on my porch? "Uh, hey."

"Hey," Dwight awkwardly shifts his weight.

"What are you doing here?"

"I left my toolbox here," He answers, "I was in my way to my friends house when I saw your car in the driveway."

"Oh," I look behind me towards the hall, "I didn't see a toolbox in the bathroom."

"Oh..." Dwight furrows his brows, "Well, I don't have it and the last place I remember having it was here."

I think for a minute, before glancing back towards the barely visible living room. "Jolyon!"

"Coming!" He shouts, running in.

"Have you seen Dwight's toolbox?"

Jolyon looks up at Dwight and then me. "Yes."

"Where?" I ask.

"I saw it in the bathroom."

"It's not in there." I lightly argue.

"Yuh-huh," Jolyon nods his head, and then runs to the bathroom.

I follow him in and he points to behind the door, where the toolbox sits. "Thanks, babe." I pick up the toolbox and lug it back to the front door. "Here."

"Thanks," Dwight takes it from me.

"You're not working today?"

"No," He simply replies, "Are you sick, or something? You look clammy."

"I've got food poisoning."

"That sucks," Dwight looks me over.

"Yeah," I huff, wiping some sweat from my forehead, "I think I have vertigo and I haven't been able to keep anything down."

"Have you tried jello?"

"Jello?" I chuckle. "No."

"Well, you should," He smiles, "That's what my mom always got when I was sick."

"I don't have any jello."

"Want me to go get some?"

I shake my head. "No! That's okay, I can go pick some up later."

"You sure?" Dwight tells me, "You shouldn't be driving if you're dizzy. I can go for you; it's no problem."

"Dwight," I swallow down some nausea, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

I go to tell him why, but I see the lack of motive behind his eyes and I can't do it. Dwight's just a genuinely friendly person, who would get jello for anyone who was sick, not just me. He's just being nice. I don't want it to sound like I'm accusing him of anything ulterior.

"I have to go to the store anyway." He informs me.

"Um...okay, if you really don't mind," I relent, more easily than I should have, "I guess it'd save me the trip with Jolyon."

"Yeah," D nods, "Green, or red?"

"Red." I grin.

Dwight returns thirty minutes later with two plastic grocery bags. I show him into the kitchen as quietly as possible, since Jolyon fell asleep on the couch.

"There was strawberry and cherry," He softly says, "I didn't know which to get, so I got both."

"That's cool," I pull them out of the plastic bag, "What's this?"

"Broth and juice," Dwight murmurs, "I thought maybe clear foods would be easier to stomach."

I can't help, but smile. "You are so..." My eyes get drawn into his earnest, blue- green portals and my breath gathers. "...Amazing."

 **...**

The bell rings for lunch as I'm passing out the tests I graded in my down time. A few students, who didn't do so well, groan or curse under their breaths as they look at their grades. Ravinder looks pretty pleased with her perfect score. When everyone's out, I close the door and fish out my meek lunch.

Negan comes knocking ten minutes later, "Are you contagious?"

"Is food poisoning ever contagious?" I raise my brow, smirking.

"Feelin' better?"

"Enough to come to work." I peel off the plastic lid of my Tupperware bowl and walk over to the microwave.

"Enough to come at work?" He chuckles, strolling over to my desk.

"No." I curtly say, before snickering.

"Did you get yours and your kid's lunches mixed up?"

I shake my head without looking at him. "Nope."

"Then why the hell do you have jello and a juice box?"

"Clear foods," I explain vaguely, taking the bowl out of the microwave. I walk back to my desk, where he sits, in my chair. "Move."

"Make me." He grins.

"I'm sick," I retort, "Be nice."

"I'm never nice." Negan takes my arm and encourages me to sit.

I work my arm out of his grasp. "I'm not sitting on your lap."

"Well, I'm not moving." He snickers.

"Dick." I chuckle, standing and spooning warm broth into my mouth.

Negan lightly turns in the chair, this way and that way, looking up at me. "I didn't...scare you or anything, right?"

"Scare me?" I scoff, lowering my smirk when I see he might be serious. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, when we were texting," He elaborates, licking his lips, "When I said I think I love you? I was kidding around."

I look down into my broth. "I know."

"Good, 'cause you said you had to go after that and I, uh, I thought I fuckin' put my foot in my mouth." Negan clicks his tongue. "I thought maybe you took it seriously and I fuckin' wigged you out, or some shit."

"Nope," I nonchalantly assure him, "We were taking the piss out of each other. I knew you were being ironic."

"Alright," He sighs, relieved, then whistles, "I was kickin' myself for that all afternoon yesterday."

"I don't believe you," I snort, reaching for my juice box, "You're too up your own ass."

"I was almost too distracted to fool around with Claire."

I huff through my nose, jabbing the straw through the little foil hole on the top. "Almost."

"Almost."

"Are she and her husband still separated?" I inquire, incuriously.

"Didn't know they fuckin' were." Negan answers, not bothered by the news.

"Oh."

Negan chuckles, but then gets quiet. He steadily sits up. "What's that?"

"Broth." I stick a spoonful in my mouth.

"No, not the fuckin' soup," Negan stands up and brushes some of my curls behind my shoulder, "That."

I self-consciously put my hand to my neck. "It's a hickey."

"A hickey?" He furrows his brows.

"Yeah," I move my hair back to cover it up, "Also known as a love bite."

"How'd you get it?"

"Guess." I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I gave it to you?" Negan asks, half-amused, half- doubtful.

"Yes," I causally lie, "When we were in the hotel room."

"It looks fresh."

"Well," I lick my lips and then give him a playful smirk, "You really got me, tiger."

Negan looks me over and smiles; moving closer to me and leaning in for a kiss.

"Better not," I teasingly pull my head away, "I don't want you to catch my food poisoning."

"Shut up." Negan chuckles, putting his mouth on mine.

I kiss him back, but then move away. "I want to finish my lunch before the bell."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy and thanks again for the support!**

 **CLTex: Thanks for the review! You post one every week and you're always so lovely. As for Lourdes, well, she's no fool ...and Pippa knows that, so we shall see.**


	19. Chapter 19

Downtown Camden is garnished with two rows of booths and food tents all the way down to the corner of Main and Halcyon. The middle of the street is filled with people going from stand to stand of whatever catches their eye. It's pretty cold outside, but that doesn't seem to bother anyone, considering there's plenty of warm food and drinks every couple of steps. It's the annual harvest festival that occurs every second Saturday in November.

It makes me nostalgic. My family use to come every single year. It was more exciting when I was younger, playing all the carnival-style games, getting my face painted, and feeding the goats at the petting zoo. Stuff Jolyon is into now.

My parents were going to come, but Audrey had an emergency appendectomy last night, so they drove up to Richmond to see her. I wanted to go, but Mom told me that Audrey didn't wanted a million people crowding her hospital room over something not quote-unquote "that big of a deal." So, Jolyon and I came to the harvest festival.

Lourdes tagged along. She called me around six this morning and asked if I wanted to hang out today. I told her what we had planned for the day and she agreed to come down. I think she might have gotten into a fight with Simon, or something. She sounded a little hoarse on the phone like she had been crying or shouting earlier and when she finally arrived at my house, her hair was up in a disheveled bun and despite having minimal makeup on; her eyes were clearly still a little puffy. Jolyon was still eating breakfast when she arrived, so we sat in the kitchen while we waited. I offered her some coffee and something to eat but she said she wasn't hungry.

However, once we get to the festival, she pays patronage to at least three food tents within the first twenty minutes of being here. Jolyon tells me he's thirsty, so I order a warm apple cider at the tent where Lourdes buys an apple funnel cake.

"So, is Simon working today?" I casually ask in an attempt to find out what's wrong.

"No sé," She shrugs, tearing off a piece of the cake to give to Jolyon, "He was still gone when I woke up this morning."

"Oh," I take a small sip of the cider to test the temperature for Jolyon, "Is everything-"

"Hey, isn't that that guy that was at your house last weekend?"

I follow her gaze to Dwight, Sherry, and Caroline aimlessly walking in the opposite direction as us. "Oh, yeah."

"Is that his girlfriend?" Lourdes asks me.

"No, that's his wife." I blandly answer, putting the coffee cup of cider to my son's mouth and carefully tipping it so he can have some.

"He's married?"

"Yes," I make it my business not to look back over at them, "They just celebrated thirteen years."

"Shit." She says under her breath.

"Mommy, I want to hold the cup." Jolyon reaches up for it.

"I don't want you to spill it."

"I won't!" He replies. "Please!"

"Okay, fine," I hand it over to him, "Hold it with both hands."

"Hey!" Caroline's gleeful voice approaches me from behind. Fuuuuck!

I turn around and smile. "Hey, Caroline."

"How are you, sweetheart?" She hugs me and gives me a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"I'm good," I vaguely relay, "How have you been?"

"I'm doing really well." Caroline smiles with a maternal warmth. "Where are your parents?"

"My sister had to have surgery last night, so they went to go see her in recovery."

"Oh my god," Caroline puts her hand over her mouth, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it was just an appendectomy," I tell her with a soft roll of my eyes, "Audrey will milk it for the rest of the month, but she'll be okay."

"Hi!" Sherry greets as she and Dwight come up.

"Hi, how are you?" I greet back.

"Good, good," Sherry looks over at Lourdes, "Hi."

"Hello," Lourdes says while eating her funnel cake, "I'm Lourdes."

"Lourdes and I work together," I inform Sherry and Caroline, before glancing at her, "You got a little powdered sugar right there."

"Oh," Lourdes brushes away some sugar from the funnel cake from her upper lip, "Thanks. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, same." Dwight clear his throat.

Sherry looks at him, mildly confused. "You've met before?"

"Yeah, she was with Pippa that day at the beach." Dwight says.

"Yeah." Lourdes nods.

"Oh, okay." Sherry smiles.

"Uh-oh!" Jolyon exclaims, "Mommy, I spilled it!"

I glance down at the cup and lid beside the stain of cider on the road. "Yes, you did."

"Sorry." He says with a low voice, like he's in trouble.

"It's okay, honey," I pick the cup and lid up and toss it in the nearby garbage, "It was an accident."

"It got on my shirt," Jolyon shows me a little wet mark, "I need to change."

"No, it'll dry fast."

"But my shirt's wet!"

"Here's a napkin, bebé," Lourdes hands him one of hers, "Dab it on the wet part, so it'll dry."

"Thank you." Jolyon takes the napkin and stops fussing.

"He's so cute," Caroline laughs, "Isn't he cute?"

"Yeah, he is." Sherry kindly agrees.

"You know, you could have a cutie like him, if you wanted to," Caroline jokingly prods.

Sherry's smile holds, as she adjusts her purse strap. "So, you'll have to come over for dinner again one of these nights."

"Uh, sure," I nod my head, briefly flickering my eyes to Dwight's, "Or you could come to my house."

"Yeah, that'd be nice," She beams.

"You can see my nebla ball!" Jolyon tells her, before looking at Dwight. "You can see it again, if you want to."

"Was that when you were fixing their sink?" Sherry glances up at Dwight.

"Yeah."

"Are you a plumber?" Lourdes asks Dwight. "I only ask because you were in and out at the speed of light last weekend."

"Oh, uh, no," Dwight looks at her, "I'm just-"

"He's super handy," Sherry touches her hand to his chest, "He fixes everything. I don't know what I'd do without him."

Jolyon tugs my hand. "Mommy, can we go feed the ducks?"

"Sure," I smile at the three in front of us, "Well, we'll see you around."

"See ya." Sherry waves.

"Bye, sweetheart," Caroline hugs me goodbye, "You look so beautiful."

"I try." I joke, taking in her memorable perfume.

"Well, you certainly don't have to." She fixes the collar of the flannel I have on.

Sherry tucks some hair behind her ear. "So, I'll give you a call for dinner. Maybe after Thanksgiving?"

"Okay," I wrap my flannel close, "Have a good day."

"Bye."

"Give Audrey my best!" Caroline adds, before catching up with her son and daughter-in-law.

Our parties go our separate ways. Lourdes and I scrape up some quarters from our purses so Jolyon can get some feeding pellets from the machine for the petting zoo. The bigger animals aren't shy, so some of them walk right up to him when they see the little white cup in his hand.

"Keep your palm flat, Jol." I warn him.

"Where are the ducks at?" He turns to look at me, as a sheep bigger then him eats from the palm of his hand.

"I don't think they have ducks, babe."

Lourdes chuckles as she watches him, while eating a chocolate chip cookie the size of the moon that she stopped for on the way. "We might have to walk him to the pond. All he was talking about on the way here was the ducks."

"Well, maybe they don't have them anymore," I keep my eye on Jolyon from the outside of the pen, "Maybe the kids were getting to handsy with the smaller animals."

"Maybe," She snickers, "So was that blonde older lady his mom?"

I run a knuckle under my nose. "Yeah."

"She seemed like she knew you pretty well," Lourdes takes a bite of her cookie, "Both of them did."

"Yeah," I turn my head her way, "Dwight and I use to date in high school and we were really close friends before that."

"Whoa," She licks the corner of her mouth to get the smudge of chocolate, "Does Sherry know that?"

"We cheered together all four years of high school," I inform her, "We weren't, like, best friends or anything like that, but I'm pretty sure she knows that Dwight and I were a thing."

"You've been over to their house?"

"Yeah," I reply, glancing over at the goat that's taking the liberty of eating straight from Jolyon's cup, "But it's not like she brought it up."

"I can't imagine," Lourdes scoffs, "'Hey, Pippa, could you pass the salt? Remember when we cheered together? How about when you took my husband's virginity?'"

I snicker through my nose, rubbing my cold hands together in thought. When I look back at Lourdes, her brow is raised but she seems perturbed. "What?"

"Sorry, if I made an assumption," She responds.

"It's fine."

"Did you and him...ever have sex?"

My mind digresses for a moment, before I open my mouth to speak. "Well, we-"

"Mommy," Jolyon comes running over, "I'm done!"

"Okay," I help him out of the pen, "Good job. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," He laughs, "Can I have a bite?"

"Sure." Lourdes smiles.

I chuckle. "Stop mooching off Lourdes and get your own!"

Jolyon giggles as he chews the bite of cookie. "I want my own!"

"Okay."

On the way over to the stand that's selling the cookies, Jolyon spots the face painting table. He gasps and then looks up at me.

"I want my face painted!"

"I thought you wanted to get a cookie."

"We can do both!" Jolyon suggests.

"I'll take him to get his face painted and you go get the cookie." Lourdes laughs.

"Alright."

I walk a few booths down and buy Jolyon a smaller version of Lourdes' cookie. There's a stand that sells coffee next to the cookie booth, so I buy Lourdes and I coffee. There's a line, so I wait over on the other side of the booth and wait for my order to be ready.

"Hey."

I find Dwight on my left, I guess waiting as well. "Hey, where's Sherry and your mom?"

"At some stand with a bunch of ugly knick-knacks."

I smile. "I think I passed that one awhile ago."

Dwight snickers. "Remember when we use to come here?"

"Yeah," I nod my head, "I remember it being more fun."

"I guess it's different when you're an adult."

"Mhm."

Dwight clears his throat. "Hey, listen, Sherry doesn't know that I stopped by to get my toolbox Tuesday."

I look over. "Oh, okay."

"I just...I'd just prefer she didn't."

"Okay."

"Thanks." His eyes find the poorly concealed, half-faded hickey behind my collar.

I glance over at him, until our eyes meet. "Can we-"

"Yes," He interrupts, lowering his voice, because of the people around us, "But I don't know when I can."

I nod my head, quickly observing a few familiar faces. "Okay..."

"Two Americanos with cream and sugar!" The lady in the booth shouts.

"That's my order."

Dwight nods, putting his hands in his jacket pocket. "I'll call you later."

 **...**

I'm woken up by the sound of Lourdes' phone ringing out in the living room. I look to my alarm clock and it's three o'clock in the fucking morning. Christ, I didn't know cell phones could be so fucking loud and I'm not a light sleeper.

Lourdes ended up staying the night. After we left the festival, she hung around my house instead of driving back home. I didn't mind, of course, I just didn't expect it. We sat around my house, drinking gin and tonics while laughing at anything and everything that came to mind. Around six, the three of us went out for Chinese food to bring back to the house and Lourdes bought some wine coolers from the liquor store across the street. She drank most of them on top of practically starving Jolyon and I on orange chicken and noodles.

I asked her if she was okay, since she had been sort of stress eating all day, but she made light of it all. She just waved her hand nonchalantly and took a deep sip of her fourth wine cooler.

"Simon and I got into it last night," She told me with a tipsy chuckle, "I said some things, he said some things. Then I said some mean things and he said some meaner things. It was stupid."

"What started the argument?" I asked her, a little concerned.

Lourdes swallowed a lump in her throat and her eyes got shiny. "It was nothing. He just...nothing."

I sighed and pushed my food around with my fork. "Alright."

"Let's watch a movie!" Jolyon suggested, while feeding a noodle into his mouth.

"Yeah, let's watch a movie!" Lourdes smiled, scrunching her nose at him.

The movie was about a halfway over when I finally glanced over at the two lovebirds, asleep and snuggled on the L part of my couch. I then turned the T.V. off and gingerly picked Jolyon up to put him to bed. Lourdes stirred when I had done that and her eyes tiredly looked up to me in question.

"I'm just taking him to his room." I whispered.

"What time is it?" Lourdes asked, stretching her arms and legs. I could smell the alcohol on her breath with she speaks.

"Ten-thirty," I report, "You can stay the night, if you want."

"Thank you."

After I tiptoed out of Jolyon's room and lightly closed the door halfway, I fetched a better blanket than the throw I have on the couch to take to Lourdes.

"You're an angel." She snickered quietly, wrapping up in the blanket.

"Goodnight."

"Thank you for letting me stay here."

"No problem." I sleepily smiled.

"And for letting me hang out all day," She then turned her body until she was no longer facing me, "I didn't want to be alone."

"Well..." I shuffled over to the lights to turn them off, "We certainly enjoy your company."

"He left in the middle of the night," Lourdes croaked very faintly, almost as if I weren't meant to hear that, "He hasn't called, or texted me all day."

I hesitate before I speak. "Maybe he's just giving you time to cool off. Some space, maybe?"

"I don't know where he goes when he leaves," She mumbles with a vulnerable tone, "It worries me. Drives me crazy."

"I'm sure he's at home right now."

"He took the dog with him."

"Don't worry, Lour," I softly insisted, "Everything will be just fine. You'll see in the morning."

The phone stops and then rings almost immediately again. Lourdes is probably passed out drunk beyond hearing the phone, or is just ignoring it. Finally, I practically spring out of bed in tired fury.

"You've got to be fucking me." I snap under my breath as I stride into the living room.

I pick up the phone and read the name on the screen. Simon. See, I knew she had nothing to worry about. The ringing stops and I'm shown on the screen that he's called about a dozen times since midnight. There's a few text messages and voicemails in the wake as well. The phone starts ringing in my hand, so I quickly set it on silent and put it down. Lourdes is out cold.

I pad down the hall, briefly checking on Jolyon before I go back to bed. As I lay down, my mind reels that relationship, or at least what little I know of it. I honestly don't see the appeal in Simon. Sure, he's kind of good-looking and, from what I understand, is great in bed, but how can those two factors outweigh the grief he gives her? I've only known her for about two and a half months, but I really like her and I don't like seeing my friends upset.

Simon's such an asshole. To me, he seems like a real fucking piece of work that's not worth it. I know I've seen his eyes wander, which is oddly hypocritical, considering that time Lourdes told me he accused her of flirting with some guys by the pool at the motel. But, to be fair, I think I've seen Lourdes do just that at the beach. I don't know...maybe I should just mind my own business. They seemed to be very much into each other at the cantina. Simon doesn't look like the sort of guy that would slow dance, so maybe Lourdes is special to him.

I wake up later on around seven. Lourdes can be heard speaking Spanish in the living room. From what it sounds like, she's seen the missed calls, messages, and voicemails on her phone and has called Simon. Or maybe he called her and she answered. Regardless, her voice appears to be calm and humble. She doesn't apologize, or reply as if she's accepted an apology. She asks if he's home and then after a short pause, tells him that she'll be home as soon as possible.

After she says that she loves him, right before goodbye, I get up out of bed and walk out to the living room. "Good morning."

"G'morning!" Jolyon smiles, surprisingly out in the living room with Lourdes and Pip, whom he's playing fetch with. Oh, yeah, our cat fetches toy mice.

"Hey," Lourdes grins with a clearly more vibrant light to her face than yesterday, although she's sheepish, "So, I just got off the phone with Simon."

"Oh, yeah?" I sit down on the couch.

"Mhm," She rubs her arm, "He called me about a million times last night. I guess he got home around eleven."

"See, I told you he would." I yawn again.

"Yeah," Lourdes looks down at her phone, "Um, thank you for everything. I think I'm gonna head home."

"Okay." I nod my head.

 **...**

"Ow!" I growl, smacking him on the arm. "Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" Negan snickers against the flesh of my neck.

"Don't bite me!" I glare at his smug eyes.

"I didn't fucking bite you." He smirks as he takes hold of my hips.

"Yes, you fucking did."

"Okay, it was an accident."

"Right," I huff, pushing him away, "Your teeth just accidentally mistook me for a sandwich."

He chuckles huskily. "They'd rather sink into you than a fucking sandwich, any 'ol fuckin' day."

"Well, I don't like it," I retort hotly, " So, don't do it again."

"Jesus, sor-ry," Negan plops down in his chair, "I thought you'd be into it."

"If you don't want me to leave marks, I don't want to be marked up either."

He raises his brows and chuckles again, while fixing himself back into his pants. "Fair enough."

I swing one of my legs off the end of his desk. "I didn't mean to snap."

"Don't apologize for saying no."

"I didn't apologize," I snort, "I just said I didn't mean to snap is all. That's not an apology."

He scoffs. "Well, I can lick my own fucking wounds, thank you very much."

"I'm the one that got bit," I laugh, extending my foot over his way, "And I don't mind letting someone else lick mine."

Negan makes a naughty, humored sound, taking my ankle and pulling himself closer to the desk. "You've got a dirty mind. I love it."

I give a joking, haughty scoff. "And what exactly do you think I'm proposing, Coach?"

"That I eat y-" There's a knock on his office door. "What?"

I look at him like he's mad for answering the knock, since I leapt off his desk and scramble to get my underwear back up.

"A letter came for you from the district." Diane says on the other side.

"Is it that time of the year again?" He grins, getting up to answer the door.

"No!" I sharply whisper.

"I'll just slide it under the door." Diane replies to his quip. A white envelope breezes under the door and I count the disappearing footsteps until they're gone.

Negan picks the letter up and brings it over, sitting down in his swivel chair. "Would you make yourself useful and hand me the letter opener?"

"Get it yourself, prick," I snap, "Were you really gonna just open the door like that?"

"I put my dick away." He grins ear-to-ear.

I curl my lip. "I meant were you gonna share with the world that you and I were having sex?"

"We weren't having sex," Negan rips open the letter with his fingers," We were about to have sex. And the world, Pippa? Diane is hardly the fuckin' world, so don't be so fucking dramatic."

"She gossips with Lourdes."

Negan's eyes flicker up from the letter. "Lourdes is hardly the fucking prime candidate for chucking the first stone."

"We're friends," I claim, "She doesn't like you and I don't-"

"Oh, Christ!" He groans. "You can't be friends with two people, because one doesn't like the other?"

"You don't like her anymore than she likes you," I point out, even though I know he's right.

"That's not true," Negan claims with a devilish grin, "If she came to me with open legs, I'd-"

"Oh, god, shut your mouth!" I snatch the letter out of his hands.

"What?" He laughs throatily. "I'm not a grudge holder."

"You're a dog."

"Guilty."

I huff, before looking down at the letter. "How many of these complaints do you have to get before they fire your ass?"

"I've got tenure," He takes it from me and sticks it in a paper shredder, "So, I'd have to do a whole lot fuckin' worse than have a potty mouth."

"That and your wife's the superintendent," I slip on my backless clog, "The letter's just so she won't look partial."

"It's like foreplay for me," Negan smiles, "But she's not always the nice lady passing out candy to kids, you know. I'm gonna get a fuckin' earful for this and I can guarantee you I'm not getting anything else."

"Aw," I sarcastically pout," Does your mean wife not get turned on by you verbally abusing teenagers? What a bitch."

Negan take my arm and pulls me near. "Watch what you say about my wife."

I snicker, biting my lip and touching his bicep. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He smiles down at me. "I'm glad you asked."

 **...**

The night's crisp and dark. The cold nips my fingers, nose, and cheeks as I sit on my porch, smoking. Jolyon's been in bed for about an hour. The cat rubs his back on the window where he can look out at me, occasionally meowing to be let out. Lights from his car shine brightly as they come closer down the road. I watch as he parks his truck in front of my house and turns the car off. He doesn't hesitate to get out. He coolly puts a cigarette in his mouth from the pack and lights it. I don't move, or speak as he strolls up to my porch.

"Hey." Dwight says, exhaling smoke.

"Hey."

* * *

 **Thank you all for all the support! I hope this week's chapter is enjoyable.**

 **Remember. Innocence: I love that you loved the flashback scene! I really want to convey Dwight and Pippa's past relationship well, because I want readers to get a good idea of how strong their connection was, despite the coming of age innocence. Glad you love the back-and-forth between Negan and Pippa! It's fun to write!**

 **CLTex: I also love the ups and downs of Dwight and Pippa. They're obviously in a bad situation where they can't be together, because Dwight's married and not as bold/unapologetic about cheating as Negan is. They also have "the past" that makes things even more heavy between them.**

 **StTudnoBright: I'm glad you like all my winks to TWD characters! I'm trying to figure how to stick some more in there, but seeing how most of our beloved live in Georgia or somewhere south of Virginia, it's proving to be a challenge. Happy that you enjoy the story and my OC and I am also looking forward to Save Yourself starting up again in three weeks.**


	20. Chapter 20

_"Surprise!" I cheer with a flat, less enthusiastic inflection._

 _He smiles, looking down at the cake on the plate. "What's this?"_

 _"I tried to bake you a cake for your birthday," I take a sad glance at it, "But there's a reason I switched out of Home Ec."_

 _Dwight laughs. "It looks great. Thank you."_

 _"It's horrible and it looks horrible."_

 _"I'm sure it's not that bad," He swipes from frosting off the side with his finger and tastes it, "The frosting's good."_

 _"It's store bought." I huff._

 _"Well, you tried and it's the thought that counts, right?"_

 _"You're too nice."_

 _Dwight looks over my disappointed pout. "You got candles?"_

 _I shake my head. "No."_

 _He starts up his truck. "Let's go get some."_

 _We drive to a gas station, where he buys a little thing of birthday candles, a lighter, a pack of plastic forks, and some milk. We then drive to the river, but it starts to rain, so we just sit in his truck._

 _"Is it safe to light candles in a car?" I laugh, sticking eighteen pink, blue, and yellow candles on top of the chocolate cake._

 _Dwight rolls down his window a crack. "There."_

 _"Oh, well, then proceed."_

 _He grins, before striking the lighter, producing a flame between us and then lights each candle. The cloudiness outside is kept at bay with the warm light of the candles in the cab._

 _"Should we sing happy birthday?" I ask._

 _"If you want," Dwight sets the lighter on the dashboard, "I'm not gonna sing happy birthday to myself."_

 _I giggle, lifting the plate up. "Okay, then blow 'em out."_

 _"Okay."_

 _"Make a wish first."_

 _Dwight scoffs, humored. "Really?"_

 _"Yes, really," I smile, "Make it a good one."_

 _He smiles back at me, before blowing out all the candles in one fatal swoop. "There."_

 _"What'd you wish for?" I inquire, setting the cake down and ripping open the bag of forks._

 _"I thought you were suppose to keep it a secret." He takes a fork from me._

 _"Tch, yeah, I guess." I dig my fork into one side of the cake. I watch him do the same and wait until he sticks the fork in his mouth before I do the same. "Well?"_

 _"It's um," D clears his throat; clearly having a hard time swallowing, "Dry."_

 _I force down my bite. "And dense as fuck."_

 _"Hand me the milk."_

 _I open it up and take a quick swig, then pass it to him. "I should've had my mom make it."_

 _"No, it's okay," Dwight twists the cap back on the milk container, "I'll eat it."_

 _"It's bad, D." I put it down on the dashboard._

 _"At least it tastes like a cake."_

 _"Fuck you!" I laugh._

 _He laughs, too, rolling up the window. "You."_

 _"What?"_

 _"That's what I wished for," He looks down at the steering wheel, "To be with you."_

 _"You already are, silly."_

 _"Yeah, well...I want to be with you for a long time."_

 _My eyes softly transfix on him, taking in his words. I can see he's a little embarrassed, because he doesn't usually say super sweet things like this. I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, now it won't come true."_

 _He looks over at my smirk and smiles, chuckling. "Shut up!"_

 _I laugh again, before leaning over to kiss his cheek._

Dwight sits at the right end corner of my bed, tugging on his boots and roughly lacing them. He's quiet as he reaches for his shirt and pulls it over his head. I sit up with the comforter to my breasts and the movement attracts his attention. I gently tuck some mussed curls behind my ear.

Dwight sighs as he stands up. "I'm gonna go."

"I'll walk you out." I grab a t-shirt off the floor.

"It's okay, you don't have to."

"I have to lock the door." I say, shrugging on the shirt and then taking my panties off the bed to put them on.

The two of us go quietly out of my room and to the front door. Dwight takes his jacket from the rack and slips it on. I open the door, letting in the November cold. Dwight steps out onto the porch and then turns to look at me.

"Night."

"Night," I reply.

"I'll talk to you later."

I nod my head. "Okay."

"Probably not until after Thanksgiving."

"Yeah."

He licks his lips, nodding. "Alright."

"It's midnight."

Dwight checks his watch. "Yeah, it is."

"Happy Birthday."

He glances at me. "Thanks."

"You doing anything later?" I ask him, shooing the cat away with my foot. "With Sherry and your mom?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I'm thirty-two," Dwight says, "It's not a significant year."

I shrug. "You should still celebrate. My great-grandmother said that if it's another year kickin' then it's something worth toasting to."

D snickers, putting a hand on the frame. "Yeah, I remember you telling me about that."

"You should do something fun."

"Like what? What do you do for fun on your birthdays?"

I chuckle under my breath. "Up until three years ago, I just stayed home and drank... or went out to dive bars and drank."

"Alone?"

I look at him. "Yeah...for the most part, yeah."

"That doesn't sound like fun."

"Well, I had Jolyon," I smile pitiably, "So now, I stay home and eat pizza and cake."

The corners of his mouth tip up. "Well, I should go home."

"Yeah."

He takes a step forward and I let him kiss me. "Bye, Pippa."

"Bye."

 **...**

Thanksgiving break began, so school's out for a week until the Monday after the holiday. I always hate holiday breaks. It allows for a lot of free time and I don't really do well with too much free time. I don't have to wake up early to be anywhere, I don't have anything to do for eight to ten hours a day, and then I'm not as tired at the end of the day. All the open space leaves room for all the bad thoughts and the desire to drink.

Lourdes invited Jolyon and I over for dinner tonight, as thanks for letting her "be a burden" last weekend. Jolyon is pretty stoked. I think he's got a little crush on Lourdes. I, on the other hand, am a little apprehensive. Simon, as far as I know, will be there and I'm still firmly on the fence about him. The Monday after Lourdes spent the night, she acted completely normal as if there was no argument between them, or a following day of sulking, eating, and drinking.

We stop off at the gas station close to their house, after I realized I'm dangerously low on gas. All the pumps have a "cash only" paper sign on them, so I have to unbuckle Jolyon from his car seat so I can go in to pay.

"Twenty-five on three, please." I hand twenty-five dollars to the cashier.

"And this!" Jolyon stands on his tiptoes to put a sucker on the counter.

"And that." I put down a dollar. As the cashier's printing my receipt, I see Negan's car pull into the lot. "Thank you."

We exit the store with the bell ringing at the top. "Why does it do that?" Jolyon asks.

"So they know people are coming in." I answer, watching Negan getting out of his car. I almost holler to him, but as we get closer to our pump, I see a woman in the passenger seat of his car. "Get in your seat, baby."

I pick up the gas pump and turn my back on the Mustang. From the corner of my eye, I make out his silhouette walk into the gas station to pay. I have half a mind to look over my shoulder to see if I can recognize the woman in the car, but I decide that I better not. I quickly fasten Jolyon into his seat and close the door by time the gas stops.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

I glance to the side to see Negan walking up to me. "I'm going over to Lourdes' for dinner."

"If I didn't know any better," He grins, tossing a balled up receipt in the trash can, "I'd say you and Lourdes are a little fuckin' smitten with each other."

I huff through my nose. "Nothing gets passed you," I then glance briefly at his car and discover Jolyon's preschool teacher checking her makeup in the side mirror, "Where's Lucille?"

"She went to go pick up her parents from D.C. for Thanksgiving."

I look him over with a raised brow. "You didn't go with her?"

Negan chuckles. "Her folks don't fuckin' like me all the much."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"Don't get up on that fucking high horse just yet, honey." He retorts, before waving at Jolyon who's waving inside the car.

"What about your parents?" I ask him, "Are you spending Thanksgiving with them, too?"

"No," Negan answers with a less cavalier albeit curt tone, "Just her parents and that's it."

"You don't have any other family?"

"Nope," He smirks, "We're both only children."

I nod. "Alright."

Negan takes hold of the pendant at the end of my necklace and looks it over mindlessly. "So, I take it you'll be surrounded by loving family?"

I scoff. "I'll be starting off my day with some mimosas at breakfast to keep me nice and then proceed from there."

He laughs a little. "I don't believe you're ever nice."

"Well, then it keeps my rose-colored glasses on."

"Charming."

"You're one to talk about charm," I saucily reply, "You've got my kid's preschool teacher in your car."

"Well, if you want first dibs when my wife's gone, just fill out a form." He taunts.

I roll my eyes at him. "I have to go. It's almost six."

"Alright, I'll see ya around," Negan backs away, "You free Saturday?"

"Why?"

"Lucille will be taking her parent's home."

I look down at the door handle of my car. "I don't know, maybe."

 **...**

Simon's car wasn't in the driveway when we arrive at Lourdes' house. "He should be home any minute." She claims with a scarlet lip. I didn't even make an inquiry; she just automatically made an excuse.

"Okay," I smile back, "Not a problem. What are we having?"

"I've got chicken tamales in the oven now," She answers, leading us into the kitchen, "It'll be another twenty minutes."

"Sounds good."

"I made a salad, too," She adds, "And I'm trying this roasted bell pepper recipe out, but if you're hungry now, I've got some chips in the pantry."

"No, we can wait." I laugh.

"I have to go potty." Jolyon informs us.

"Sure, sweetie," Lourdes takes his hand, "Let me show you where it is."

She's only gone for ten seconds, but in that time, I take a look around. The house is beautiful; Lourdes really has an eye for that sort of thing. Everything external about Lourdes suggests she's well put together. From her hair and makeup to her wardrobe, down to the lovely, non-copy-and-paste way she decorates her home.

"Do you want some wine?" She asks me when she returns, "Or we have beer and gin. Maybe some tequila left."

"Oh, uh, just a little wine. Thanks."

"On it," Lourdes gets two glasses out from a cabinet, "I'm not much of a baker, so I bought some cookies from this bakery in town."

"Cool," I smile as she pours some white wine into the glasses, "So, are you enjoying the time off?"

"Uh, yes!" She laughs. "That's the best part of being a teacher, Pippa. All the vacation."

"We don't get paid for vacation." I cackle, taking a sip from my wine.

"True, but it's still nice."

"What are your plans for Thursday?"

Lourdes looks into her glass. "Um, I'm gonna go over to my parent's house around four for dinner and if things go well, I might stay for dessert and coffee."

"You're not going over earlier?"

"No." She shakes her head.

"Well, is Simon going with you?"

She smiles and shakes her head again. "No, he's not."

"Oh, okay." We both look at Jolyon when he enters the kitchen again.

"Would you like some water, or juice, Jol?" Lourdes asks.

"Juice, please."

"Okay," She goes to the fridge, "All I have is orange juice."

"That's fine." I assure her.

When dinner's ready, the three of us sit at her dining room table with the delicious meal she made. We talk about random stuff. Jolyon's rather chatty, so we listen to him talk about what he learned at school, or from what his dad told him at one point. Lourdes entertains his schooling with questions, completely gushing over his confident answers. Occasionally, she'll slyly look over at the clock on the wall.

"And what color is Mars again?"

"It's the red one," Jolyon tell her, matter of fact, "It's the fourth planet from the sun."

"Wow, you are so smart, Jolyon." Lourdes smiles.

"It's really hot there, too."

"I bet."

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway makes both her and I look in the direction of the front door. There's a slamming of a car door a moment later and then a moment after that comes the distinct sound of a key sliding into the lock. Cleo comes trotting into the dining room, having smelled the food, and heralds the arrival of Simon.

"Sit." Lourdes calmly commands the dog, who obeys.

Keys drop onto the little table by the door. "Lour?" Simon calls.

"In here." She responds with a less than welcoming tone.

"Friend of mine got a hold of some pills," He says with approaching footsteps, "He said we could fuck for hours on it, so I-" He stops mid-sentence when he sees that Lourdes isn't alone. "Well, hello."

"Hello." I greet back.

"Hi." Jolyon shyly says next to me.

Simon's eyes blink from us to Lourdes. "That was tonight?"

"Yeah," She nods her head, displeased, "Esta noche."

"Whoops," He nonchalantly wanders into the kitchen, "I forgot."

Lourdes huffs and lightly gets up from the table. "Excuse me."

I look at Jolyon and smile. "Eat your food, baby."

Lourdes quietly begins asking him in Spanish where the hell he's been in the kitchen. Simon doesn't answer in Spanish and he's a little less subtly volumed as she, which prompts her to shush him. Jolyon and I sit like kids at the dinner table, awkwardly listening in on our parent's arguing in the kitchen. Cleo stayed behind, begging at the Jolyon's side for table scraps, which Jolyon obliges.

"Don't do that." I faintly tell him.

The two return from the kitchen and sit down. Simon's got a plate and a glass of what looks like gin. Hell, I know it's gin. Lourdes smiles at me, shooing the dog away from Jolyon.

"So," Simon clears his throat, "How are things?"

"Good," I answer him politely, "You?"

"All aces for me." He grins, chewing. Lourdes gives him a look and then rolls her eyes.

"Mommy, I don't like the salad leafs."

"Then just eat around the leaves."

"Okay." Jolyon steals a timid glance at Simon and then resumes eating.

We're all fairly quiet for a while. It's weird, but I don't know what to say to break the ice. Lourdes drinks the last of the wine from her glass.

"Wanna refill?" Simon asks her, sincere and non-ironic. She nods and he gets up and goes into the kitchen, returning with the bottle. He fills her glass halfway and holds the bottle up, as if to ask if I want any.

"No, thank you," I say, peering over at Jolyon, "Jol, don't feed the dog, babe."

"Ah, he's not hurting anything." Simon sits back down.

"I like your dog." Jolyon tells Simon.

"Yeah, I can see that." Simon casually replies, poking food onto his fork.

"Se bueno." Lourdes murmurs.

"I am being nice," He scoffs, looking over at me, "Was I rude to your boy?"

"Uh, no," I shake my head, "No."

"See?" Simon looks at Lourdes. "Cool it, would ya?"

Lourdes responds in Spanish, not knowing that I understand pretty well what she's saying. She tells him that if he keeps it up, then whatever he thought was going to happen later on is not happening. He just chuckles.

The rest of the evening goes on okay. I help Lourdes do the dishes and then we go into her living room where she has a little more wine, while Jolyon and I stick with the cookies she bought with some milk and coffee. Simon went into the back bedroom to shower after dinner. Cleo brought Jolyon a ball to throw for her, so I have to tell him not toss it too hard every couple of minutes.

"I'm sorry about what he said when he first walked in," She groans, "I swear I told him a thousand times that you and Jolyon were coming over tonight and he's got virtually no filter."

"It's no big deal," I laugh with a sympathetic tone, "I don't think Jol was even paying attention."

"I hope not." Lourdes takes a bite from a cookie. "Is it warm in here?"

"A little."

"I thought so." She pulls her sweater over her head and tosses it on the armchair to her right.

"What happened?" Jolyon asks, walking over to her. It's then that I notice light, fingerlike bruising on each of her wrists.

"Oh," Lourdes gently touches the bruises, "Um, I just banged them on something."

"Do they hurt?"

She smiles at Jolyon, shaking her head. "No, sweetheart, I'm okay."

"Jolyon, Cleo brought the ball back." I point over to her and his gaze follows. When he preoccupies himself with playing with the dog, I look back to Lourdes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She chuckles, rolling her eyes with her beautiful teeth showing, "It's from last Sunday when I got home." I furrow my brows, expressing for a further explanation. Lourdes' eyes dart to Jolyon real quick, before she mouths. "Sex."

My eyes scan hers for any hint of lying. When her undeceiving, open countenance satisfies me, I let out an uneasy chuckle under my breath. "Sorry, I just-"

"I appreciate it," Lourdes cackles, "But trust me, it's not what you think. We just get a little rough sometimes."

I exhale, as if relieved. "Well, we should get going."

"So soon?" She looks at the clock on the wall. "Oh, it's actually getting pretty late."

"Yeah," I stand up from her sofa, "Do you mind if I smoke really quick before I leave?"

"Sure, sure," She point her finger over her shoulder, "You can smoke out back, if you want. Simon's got an ashtray on the table."

"Thanks." I put my cardigan back on and then I slide open the backdoor and step outside.

I light a cigarette and take an unsteady inhale, releasing the smoke into the cold night. I sit down at the dainty little patio set on the porch and briefly glance inside to see Lourdes praising Jolyon for a "good throw." My eyes wander the nearly pitch-black yard before me, making out the beautiful garden of roses, peonies, and other flora I can't quite make out. A minute or two passes, until the slider door opens and Simon steps out, closing it behind him.

"Mind if I sit?" He asks, striding over.

I shrug, exhaling smoke. "It's your house."

"Well, actually it's Lourdes' house, but I call it home." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little tin.

"Where'd you live before?"

"Oh, here and there," Simon opens up the tin and produces a baggy of marijuana and some rolling paper, "Not much of a sit and stay put kind of a guy."

"So, what makes you sit and stay put here?" I ask, vaguely curious.

Simon expressively raises his brows into his forehead, and then looks back into the house, where we can view Lourdes' hourglass curves straightening up in the living room. He looks back at me and grins. "Sugar."

I huff, flicking some ash off. "Just the sugar?"

"Well, I'm a man of ever-shifting taste, but Lour's a cure for more than just a sweet tooth."

I watch him roll the joint and run his tongue along the paper. "She's a good person."

"When she wants to be, sure," He nods his head, "Can I borrow a light?"

I strike my lighter and hold it out for him. "She was really worried you wouldn't call her last weekend."

Simon blows smoke off to the side. "Yeah, well, I put those worries to rest, didn't I?"

Jolyon lets out a boisterous laugh from the inside, catching my attention. Lourdes is making funny faces at him, trying not to crack up at his reactions. A smile tips up on my face. When my eyes look back to Simon's, however, the smile diminishes.

"Lourdes really likes Jolyon," I tell him causally, "I'm in the market for a back-up babysitter."

Simon grins again, huffing. "Well, look no further, 'cause you've found one in Lourdes."

I take another drag from my shrinking cigarette. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Do I look like her supervisor?" He raises his brow at my question.

I shrug my shoulder. "No, but you and her seem to always be together and you don't seem to be a kid person."

"Good eye."

I watch the ash he taps away fall until I can't see it anymore. "You don't like kids?"

"Not really, no," He retorts, scratching his moustache, "I never had an itching to make grilled cheese and wipe snot from any nose other than my own."

I chuckle under my breath. "Well, that seems like shit Lourdes wouldn't mind doing."

"Yep," Simon sighs out smoke, "She'd jump for the chance, I'm sure."

The small smile I have fades again at his words. I put my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table and stand. "Well, as always, it was nice talking to you, but I gotta go."

"The pleasure was mine," He smiles, "You lookin' to buy again?"

"I don't have any cash on me."

Simon rises, putting his joint out as well. "Tell you what; I got some new shit you can sample, if you'd like. Give me some feedback on it."

"I don't want any heavy shit."

"Heavy shit?" He scoffs. "It's just pot. No magic tricks, alright?"

I give him the up and down, skeptical. "Why would you give me it for free?"

Simon opens the slider door. "As thanks for looking after my girl."

I think for a minute. "Okay, fine."

"Atta girl," He claps me on the shoulder, "I'll be right back."

Lourdes' eyes follow him down the hall and then look over to me. "What's going on?"

"Um," I put my cold hands in my pockets, "Simon's giving me something to take the edge off Thanksgiving."

"Oh," She nods, "Okay."

I meekly smile and look over at Jolyon. "Ready to go?"

"No!" Jolyon shakes his head. "Let's sleepover!"

"We can't, babe," I laugh, "Aunt Audrey is coming tomorrow."

"Please, Mom!"

"Yeah," Lourdes giggles, "Please Mom!"

I chuckle. "Go potty before we go."

"Aw!" Jolyon wallows out of the room.

"Thanks for having us over." I tell Lourdes.

"It was fun," She tucks some hair behind her ear, "Sorry about...you know."

"No worries." I grin, looking down into my purse for my keys. "Shoot, my phone's not in here."

"Oh, I think it was over here." Lourdes searches around her coffee table and couch.

"Could you try to call it?"

"Yeah, good idea." She picks up her cell phone and I hear my phone ringing.

"Thank you."

Lourdes' brows gather, puzzled. "Uh, I didn't dial yet."

"Oh," I turn over some of her throw pillows; "It's probably my mom, or sister then."

She sticks her hand down between the cushions of the couch. "Got it!"

"Great!"

As she goes to hand me my phone, her eyes look down at the screen and her smile disappears. I can't help but get a little anxious by the look on her face and when I take the phone, which has stopped ringing, I want to die. Lourdes' gaze flickers up to my sorry face.

"Done!" Jolyon comes running into the room.

I shove the phone into my purse. "Alright, kiddo, say goodbye."

"Bye, Lourdes!"

Lourdes forces a smile. "Bye, Jol."

"Okay, can you hold the leftovers for me?" I shift Jolyon towards the door, "I'll see you Monday."

"Alright," Simon meets us by the door with a nickel bag, "Here you go."

"Thanks." I hastily grab it from him and shove it into my purse, as I open the door with the other hand.

When we get home, I turn the car off and sit for a minute in the car with Jolyon asleep in the back. I take my phone from my purse and look down at the missed call from Negan. I shake my head and put my forehead to the steering wheel. "Fuck."

 **...**

Thanksgiving is rough. I begin drinking around eight in the morning, because my aunt made mimosas and sort of did my thing all throughout the day. The holidays are not a super fun time for me. Thanksgiving and Christmas are two days that I begin dreading the second the leaves change.

To be honest, I love my extended family, but I hate, hate, hate spending time with them. I know two days out of the year, which is pretty much the only time I ever really see them, seems like something manageable, but it's insufferable. I drink to get through the pitying, sympathy smiles and inquiries, because everyone knows my business. What's worse is pretending like I don't see the few disapproving looks, or hear the hushed "it's sad" every time my more judgmental family members see Jolyon and me.

I've said things in the past, but at my mom's behest, I just keep myself buzzed now to force myself to be nice. Not that she approves of how I keep nice, but she can't have her cake and eat it too. I went to the bathroom upstairs a few times during the day to throw up. Audrey told me to go to bed after dinner, before I got too drunk. I woke up in the morning in the clothes I wore the day before with a heaving headache. Despite the hangover, I manage to eat some eggs, bacon, and toast with pumpkin pie. My parents and my sister don't say anything, but I can tell they're none too pleased.

But my head wasn't concerned with that. It was more wrapped around Lourdes seeing Negan's name on my phone. I knew she kind of suspected something, but now...the cat's practically out of the bag. Lourdes is a smart cookie, but it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. I mean, what fucking reason would Negan have to call me, let alone have my number, if not to hit me up for sex?

 **...**

"You're late."

"Yeah, well, I can't fucking control traffic now, can I?" Negan grumbles, closing the motel door.

"You seem tense." I turn off the T.V. and sit up on the bed.

"Why the fucking fuck do you think that would fucking be?" He sardonically retorts.

"Because I called you at home?" I fight away a mischievous smile.

"I told you not to," Negan takes his jacket off.

"You wanted to meet up."

"Yeah, Pippa, I did, but I thought you'd wait to fucking hear from me."

"You can call me, but I can't call you?" I scoff, reaching behind me to unhook my bra.

"Last time I checked, you didn't have anyone at home," He approaches the bed, still pissed, "Except the kid."

"Aw, was that meant to sting?" I giggle, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt. "You'll have to try harder than that, sugar."

Negan leans my way and I recline on the bed. "I had half a fucking mind to leave you hanging and not fuckin' show up."

"And miss a chance to dip your wick?" I run my foot up his leg and slowly down again. "That doesn't sound like you."

He grins down at me. "Are you religious?"

I mildly shake my head. "Not particularly, no."

Negan chuckles and then gets all the way onto the bed. "Well, you're about to be a convert."

"Are you a conjugate of Satan?" I smirk.

He laughs at that, before planting his mouth on mine. I moan into his mouth as his warm body presses against me. Negan trails down my body, raising goose bumps as his five o'clock shadow grazes my soft flesh. He works his way back up to my mouth where he hovers just at my lips. He shifts between my legs a little and I giggle at the sudden feel of him poking my leg. Negan kisses me, then gets up from the bed and goes over to his jacket, where he pulls a condom from one of the pockets. He comes back to the bed, ripping the top of the wrapper and tossing it at me.

I chuckle, catching it and looking it over. "Ribbed?"

"For your pleasure." Negan chimes, rolling it on.

"I don't think it'll make much of a difference, pal."

He gets back on top of me. "I don't know if that's a compliment, or if I should tell you to fuck off."

I laugh, draping my arm behind his neck. "Go with your gut."

"Alright," Negan snakes his hand around my thigh, pushing it up, "Fuck off."

I snicker under my breath, until I feel him enter me and let out a soft, sudden. "Oh!"

 **...**

"Oh, god!" I faintly cry with a heaving breath. He thrusts a few more times before I hit climax. "Oh!"

He moans and stills his hips. He stays over me, lifted by his hands on each side of my head as he breathes out a last few moans as he regains his breath. Finally, he passionately kisses me, before he rolls off me to the free space of my bed.

With my head on my pillow, I turn my head to look at him pulling the sheet up to around his waist. I clear my throat and get out of bed, walking to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and put my glass under the cold running water. I carry the glass back to bed and after taking a few small gulps, set it down on the nightstand.

"How was your holiday?" Dwight asks me.

"Um, it was okay," I slip under the sheets, "How was yours?"

"Good," He replies with a rasp in his throat, "It was just us, my mom, Tina. So, it was...pretty light."

I stick my elbow into my pillow, so that I can hold my head up in my hand. "I'd rather have a light Thanksgiving than the alternative."

He looks over at me. "You use to brag about how lucky you were to have a big family."

"Yeah, that was before..." I drop my gaze.

"Before what?"

"Um, before...I became a rolling train wreck on fire."

Dwight huffs, mildly amused. "You look fine to me."

"You have no idea." I extend my hand for my water.

His face grows slightly uneasy at my words. "Everything alright?"

"Fine." I sigh, passing the glass, which he takes.

He looks at his watch. "I gotta go pretty soon."

I nod my head, disappointed. I sit up and hold the blankets to me as I rest my head on my knees, looking back at him leaning against my headboard.

Dwight takes a drink of water from the glass and then sets it on the other table. "What?"

"I love you."

He smiles a tired smile and leans over to kiss me.


	21. Chapter 21

Thanksgiving break ended, which means it's time to go back to work. On one hand, it gets me away from having too much free time, but on the other hand, it also means that I have to face Lourdes about what is pretty much undeniable at this point. Negan and I are churning butter. I'm not gonna lie, I got a little smashed last night at the thought of it, so that's why Jolyon and I were running late this morning.

I jump a little at the tapping on my window. I sigh when I see Negan standing outside my car. Quite frankly, the last person I want to see right now. He taps again when I don't roll down the window.

"I don't want to let the heat out!" I shout at him through the window.

Negan rolls his eyes and walks off. I pick up the other half of an egg and cheese sandwich I hastily made this morning before heading out. Before I can take a bite, the passenger's side of the car abruptly opens and I nearly drop the sandwich onto my lap.

"What the fuck?"

"I was gonna ask the same thing," Negan gets in and shuts the door, "But I can fucking smell the goddamn gin on your breath."

"Get out!" I gripe, opening up my center console to rummage for some mints. "I don't need anyone to see us together."

"Lourdes?"

"Get out of my car."

"The car's facing away from the school. No one can see us."

"Well, I...I don't think we should hang out as much at work anymore."

"Hang out?" He laughs huskily, "You mean fucking in my office?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't be so mild...but yes."

"Why?"

"Because I-"

"Does this have anything to do with Lourdes?"

"You already asked me that."

"You didn't answer me."

I scoff. "You let some of the heat out of the car."

"Pippa," Negan sternly looks at me, "Come on."

"...I went over to her house the other night for dinner and everything was going swell, until you called me. She saw your name on the caller i.d."

"How the fuck is that my fault?" He huffs, fiddling with the door handle. "I didn't know you were at... Wait, is that why _you_ called _me_?"

I chuckle at him. "You wanted to meet up, because your wife was driving to D.C. That's why I called!"

"Yeah, Friday morning, knowing fully fuckin' well that you can't call me at home." Negan gives me an incredulous look. "Was that a revenge call?"

I huff, shaking my head. "Do you really think I'd called you at home, where your wife could possibly catch you, simply because you accidentally called me at Lourdes' house?"

"Yes, I fucking do."

I laugh, "Well, you were right on money."

Negan laughs as well. "You fucking asshole."

"Did she suspect anything?" I ask with a more serious, somewhat shameful tone.

"Nah," He waves his hand, "She was making breakfast in the kitchen."

First bell rings and even from the parking lot I cringe at the sound. "I guess we better go."

"Afraid your gal pal is gonna give you the cold shoulder?"

I don't answer him, I just get out of my Jeep and wait for him to do the same, so I can lock the door. Time to face the fucking day. And Lourdes.

 **...**

The morning goes by at a snail's pace and I feel miserable, both because I'm still a little hung over and because I haven't seen Lourdes all day. At lunch, I muster up the courage to go to her classroom to talk with her. Negan's words get to me as I go down the hall. What if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore? That'll suck. I really like Lourdes and I don't have any other friends aside from her. When I get to her room, I peek inside to see her eating lunch at her desk. I knock gently on the glass window, before cautiously opening the door.

"Hi," I meekly smile.

"Hey." She replies, stiffly.

"Can I come in?"

Lourdes nods her head. "Sure."

I close the door behind me. "Whatcha eatin'?"

"Leftover tortellini." She drably answers.

"Sounds good," I clasp my hands together, "I only had time to make Jolyon's lunch today. We were running late, so I was gonna drive down to the taco truck with- by myself."

"Oh," Lourdes nods again, "That place is pretty good."

"Yeah." I bite the corner of my lip. I can't believe I almost dropped his name. "So, how was your Thanksgiving?"

"My parents told me that I wasn't invited over to their house again, until I left Simon. So, I guess I'll be saving money on Christmas presents this year."

"Yikes, I'm sorry to hear that."

She shrugs her shoulder, stirring her fork around her Tupperware. "I'm sure my mom will call me soon. How was your Thanksgiving?"

"I got tipsy and my sister sent me to bed before dessert."

She breaks out a little laugh. "Damn."

I softly chuckle, before I clear my throat again. "Um, are we okay?"

Lourdes looks up from her food at me. "Sure, why wouldn't we be?"

"Because I know you saw that it was Negan who was calling me," I lean on the a desk across from hers, "Lourdes, I-"

"It's fine."

I sigh, heavily. "Lourdes, I didn't mean for you to-"

"To find out?" She arches her brow.

I wring my hands. "Yeah."

"So, you and him are having sex?"

"...Yes. It just sort of happened."

Lourdes' tongue glides across her teeth behind her lips. "Okay."

"Are you mad at me?"

She glances back down at her lunch and shakes her head. "No."

"I understand if you are," I tell her, "I know that you and him had history and that-"

"It's fine, Pippa," Lourdes scoffs, "It's not like I have any claim to him."

"You're not going to yell at me? Tell me that what I'm doing is stupid?"

"It's none of my business," She responds, "You're an adult; you can make your own decisions. And plus, I'd be the pot calling the kettle black."

"Okay." I say, shamefully.

"But," Lourdes gives me a square in the eye, firm look, "I will tell you this; he's not the man you think he is."

"I think he's an asshole." I dryly joke.

"I mean that it's fun now, but just wait," She takes a bite of her food.

I want to explain to her that I'm not the slightest bit the fool for his "charms", or even remotely interested in him beyond causal adultery, but I don't. I just nod my head.

"I'm warned," I simply exhale, "Are we still friends?"

"Yeah," Lourdes snickers derisively, "Birds of a feather, right?"

I chuckle, slightly uneasy. "Sure."

 **...**

"Gran, look what I got!" Jolyon runs over to her with a glossy postcard in his hand.

"Oh, wow! What have you got there?" Mom picks him up.

"My dad sent me mail!" Jolyon gives it to her to see.

Jolyon loves getting mail. I don't know why it's so exciting to him, but he fucking loves it. He even likes getting those reminder cards in the mail when he's due for a shot at the doctor's.

"This is really cool, baby!" Mom smiles at him, after she read the back.

"Mom let me put it on the fridge." Jolyon wiggles free and runs back to the kitchen to put it back up with a magnet.

Mom looks over at me. "That was nice of him."

"He didn't call," I snottily retort, buttoning up my Lorelei's uniform, "A call would've been better than a stupid card."

"But Jol likes getting mail," She smiles, "He probably figured it'd be more special."

"It's late," I argue back, "A Thanksgiving postcard seems a little less special when it's two weeks late."

"Don't be like that. It probably got lost in the mail."

"Sure," I huff, "Alright, so I'll be by as soon as I get off."

"Okay, have a good night at work."

"Yep."

Lorelei's is empty, as it always is this time of night. I don't care, though. I didn't come here to wait on tables. I agreed to take Mindy's shift, because I knew Dwight stops by here almost every Friday night when he gets in from a delivery, so he won't wake Sherry up in the kitchen at home. I told him I was working and he said he'd show up. It's currently one a.m. and I'm eating the pecan pie out of the pan, waiting for Dwight.

I can't help but think back to earlier, when my Mom came over to pick Jolyon up. I know she, along with everyone else who knows, thinks what I did was wrong back in Texas. But no one's ever really had it in them to give me a piece of their mind about the subject and I prefer it that way. I don't need any fucking lip from anyone. I had my reasons, which in retrospect were shitty and disingenuous, but still have some validity.

His truck pulls into the parking lot about twenty after, so I check the back to see if Louis is snoozing. He is. I get up from the barstool and sneak out of the diner; careful not to let the bell at the top of the door jingle. Dwight's breath can be seen as he breathes into the cold air.

"Hey." I shiver, cursing myself for not bringing my jacket.

"Hi," He rubs his hands together, "It's cold."

"Yeah," I huskily chuckle, "Um, do you wanna sit in my car?"

Dwight looks back at his truck with a camper shell. "We could go to mine."

"Okay, sure." I grin and wait until he awkwardly sets the pace to the truck.

"Do you wanna sit in the back, or the front?"

"The back," I reply, "I mean, unless you want to sit up front."

"No, the back's good," He opens the back up and glances at me, "You first."

"Thanks." I uncouthly climb into the back of his truck and turn myself around to sit on the hard floor of the hatchback.

Dwight gets in and closes both parts. He then turns to me and I suddenly feel as bashful as he looks.

I look over at the diner through the small side window. "Are you gonna eat before you leave?" God, if I were with Negan instead of Dwight, I know what his quick-witted answer would be.

"What's so funny?"

I return my gaze to him. "Oh, um, nothing. I was thinking about something...stupid."

"Oh." He nods, sliding his legs out from under him.

"So, are you gonna stay for some coffee and two a.m. breakfast?"

Dwight thinks for a minute. "I don't know. Probably not."

"Okay." I breathe. I notice a thin flannel blanket neatly rolled across from me.

"You can use it, if you want," Dwight tells me after following my eyes, "Seeing as it's colder than shit in here."

"Yeah, I thought it'd be warmer, too."

His finger taps faintly on his left knee, as if he's thinking of what to do, or say next. "Um, how's your kid?"

"He's good," I reply, "He got some mail yesterday, so he's telling the whole town about it."

Dwight smiles a bit. "Who from?"

I glimpse down at the goose bumps on my legs and reach for the blanket. "His dad."

"Oh," He pauses for a second, "Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah, yeah," I inspect the pattern of the blanket as I unroll it, "Jolyon loves getting mail and he hasn't heard from him in awhile so..."

"Is it always that way? Not hearing from him for awhile?"

I aloofly shrug. "Sometimes. More so lately."

"Does he...pay child support?"

"No."

Dwight scoffs low. "Is that why he gave up his parental rights? So he wouldn't have to?"

I shake my head. "No, he's offered to give me money, I just haven't accepted it."

His eyes meet mine, puzzled. "Why not?"

"I don't need it," I murmur with stubborn pride, "I do just fine on my own."

He nods. "Well, then if he wants contact with Jolyon and has offered to give you money, then why did he-"

"You know, I don't really want to talk about it, Dwight," I exhale, frustrated.

"Why'd you bring up then?"

"I didn't, you did."

"No, I didn't." He claims.

"Yes," I insist, "You did."

"No, I asked how your son was and you told me he got a postcard from his dad."

"And then you proceeded to ask questions."

Dwight goes to argue, but stops himself when he realizes I'm right. "Okay, whatever."

I look out the window again. "Do you wanna have sex now?"

He sighs through his nose and then nods. "Yeah."

I get up and crawl closer to him. Dwight shifts my way and soon we're face to face in the dark with only the lit parking lot outside to give us some sight of each other. We both hesitate, staring, examining one another. I gently lean forward and kiss him, which he returns, softly at first, but then as our lips keep on with each other, he becomes more fervent. I can hear it in his breathing.

I push back a little, so that I can straddle him. My uniform rides up my thighs and I can feel Dwight's hands trail up my legs, finding the end of the dress and sliding his hands under. I start to unbutton my uniform down to my navel, until Dwight finishes the rest. He peels back the polyester dress and one of his hands fishes into his jacket pocket. I put my mouth on his again and move down his neck when he attempts to remove his jacket.

"Do you need me to get off?" I ask after I notice his struggling.

"Uh, yeah." He tosses he jacket to the side.

I fumblingly back off of him, waiting for him to take his shirt and shoes off. I get the blanket and hold to my chest, since it's fucking cold back here. Dwight gets up and leans my way, kissing me again, so I recline backwards. He hotly peppers my thighs with kisses, trailing up to my hip, my stomach, breasts, neck, and finally my mouth. I softly move my hand against his skin, down below the belt, causing a groan from him.

Dwight tries to continue kissing me, but he halts after my massaging proves effective. He sits up and unwraps the condom from his jacket. I note the tattoos under his arms, or at least try to, until he hovers over me. He brings my leg up and our bellies touch as we resume making out. His hand reaches down to position himself and a moment later I gasp at the pleasing feel of him inside me.

His kisses become softer and what I thought would be hot and heavy is more tender and mild. I gently tuck some hair behind his ear, so I can palm his face more delicately. Dwight goes slowly, easing in and out, which I have no problems with. I like this pace. It allows me to take him in and remind myself who he is to me. His eyes meet mine and he kisses me. It's like a tidal wave crashing over me. I know I still love him. Undoubtedly and pathetically, I do. His touch makes it clear that I've never loved anyone like I've loved Dwight and, in all likelihood, never will.

My body shutters under him and I cry out in soft, yet potent ecstasy. "Oh, Dwight," I faintly sigh.

He moans against my flesh and he stills, cursing under his breath, "Fuck."

I caress the back of his head, planting a sentimental kiss on his cheek. D pecks my lips, before sitting back up. Despite exchanging body heat, the cold of December still lingers in the back of his truck. I take the blanket and drag it across me. He rolls to the side, pulling some of the blanket over him.

"You sure I can't get you coffee and a menu?"

Dwight chuckles. "I'm good, thanks."

I smile, rolling over to my side. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I..." I think about the consequences that could befall me for asking a question I might not want the answer to, "Uh...never mind."

He furrows his brows a little. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," I answer, looking at the slightly foggy windows, "We should probably let some air in."

"In a minute." His fingers reach under the blanket and traipse my skin.

"I love you."

Dwight smiles and kisses me. I instantly feel humiliated by his usual response and I can't help but to express it. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." I lie.

"I can tell when you're lying," He snickers, "You were always really bad at pretending like you're not bothered, which apparently hasn't changed."

I look over, trying not to seem like I'm pouting. "Are you ashamed of what we're doing?"

D's smile dies out and he look at the roof. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Then why are we?"

"Because..." He exhales, sitting up on his hands, "Because ever since you got back, all I think about is you."

I sit myself up as well to see his face. "What?"

Dwight opens up the window of the camper shell and letting in the cold. "I don't know, I didn't think it'd affect me this badly," He pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, "But when I'm on the road, my head keeps finding you and then I start to remember things from before you left."

He offers me a cigarette and I accept it as well as the flame he extends. "What sort of things?"

"Like the time you made a cake from scratch for my eighteenth birthday," Dwight's smile slowly returns, "I can still remember how dry it was."

I laugh, taking a drag from my cigarette. "You ate it anyway."

"It wasn't bad, just hard to swallow."

"Did you do anything for your thirty-second birthday?"

He blows smoke out of the window. "Just what we do every year. Dinner and cake and..." He side glances me.

"Sex?"

Dwight swallows and puts his cigarette up to his mouth. "Yeah."

"How spontaneous." I dryly say.

"Sorry we don't live on the edge like you." He scoffs.

I exhale smoke. "I have a kid. The only thing I'm on the edge of is making chicken soup for when flu season hits the daycare."

"Fun."

"It kind of is," I faintly remark, "I mean, I hate when he gets sick. I feel so terrible for him, but I also like it when he wants me to hold him and sway him in my arms." I glance back to Dwight. "If he's anything like me, then it won't be long before he won't want me to coddle him anymore."

"That's not such a bad thing," Dwight replies.

"No, I guess not."

"That was one of the first things I liked about you."

"Really?"

He nods his head, examining the cigarette between his fingers. "Yeah, I remember when we were in the second grade and we had to pair up for that field trip to the zoo."

"That's when we became friends." I smile warmly at the memory.

"Yeah," He agrees, "We knew each other since kindergarten, but I guess we never clicked until then."

"Mhm, yeah."

Dwight smiles at me. "You walked right up to me and asked if I wanted to sit with you on the bus."

"I remember," I snicker, "I think you were a little shocked about being asked so forwardly."

"I was shocked because a girl asked me to be her partner." He chuckles.

I laugh. "You said yes, though."

"Yeah, and you just said 'cool' and offered me your hand."

"That was a good day." I drag from my cigarette.

Dwight nods. "I was afraid to go into the nocturnal house, because it was dark and you took my hand and told me it was the only way I was gonna get to see the bats." He flicks his cigarette out of the truck. "You lead me in, no fear. Well, until that owl turned his head our way and you squeezed my hand."

"And Sherry said you had a shitty memory." I cackle, taking one last inhale from my cigarette.

D's eyes lower, as he reaches for his shirt. "I do."

"That seemed like a vivid description of something that happened twenty-four years ago to me." I pull on my uniform and start to button down.

"Yeah, well, I can't seem to hold onto things that I should," He clears his throat, "Now, anyway."

I pause on a button and look up at him. I think I understand what he means by that and I don't know if I should be glad, or really saddened by it. I rake a hand through my hair. "Oh."

"Um, Sherry's gonna probably call you next week to see if you want to come over."

"Okay," I nod my head and then think about it, before glancing back at him, "Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Dwight fiddles to get his pants back on.

I shrug my shoulder. "Because we're sleeping together, Dwight."

He fixes his belt. "Then tell her you can't make it."

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't care what you do."

I sigh through my nose, irritably. "Then, I guess if she calls, I'll tell her I'd be happy to come over for dinner."

"Fine, great."

"Cool."

Dwight runs his hand down his face. "I guess I should go home."

"Yep," I itch my nose, "I guess I...am going to go finish off that pecan pie." He chuckles at that. "Shut up."

"I wasn't laughing _at_ you."

"Then what are you laughing at?"

He opens the door. "Nothing."

I look him over and nudge him on the shoulder. "Well, then wipe that smirk off your face."

Dwight laughs more buoyantly. "It's fucking cold out."

"Sure is." I hop out of the back of his truck and that's when I realized I never took my sneakers off.

He gets out of the back as well, shrugging on his jacket. "Maybe I should get some coffee for the road."

I turn my head towards him. "Need a menu, too?"

"Nah, just coffee."

"Okay," I nod, "If you want, I can bring it out to you."

"No, I'll walk with you."

"Alright."

So, the two of us walk into the diner together, nonchalantly. Louis is awakened by the bell and peers out of the kitchen window, somewhat confused. I mildly smile at him as I walk behind the counter to the coffee pot.

"Shit," I curse, "The coffee's cold. It's been sitting here awhile." I look over my shoulder at Dwight. "It'll take about ten minutes for a fresh pot."

"I can wait ten minutes." He shrugs, having a seat at the counter.

I set the coffee up to brew and walk over to where he's sitting. He smiles, appearing casual, as he lightly spins the sugar container. In the background, Sam Cooke's "You're Always On My Mind" is crooning out of the jukebox. I think I'll take Jolyon for donuts in the morning, instead of pancakes.

* * *

 **Hope y'all enjoy this week's chapter! I know it's a little short, but got swamped with school and work this week and had very little time to do anything else. Yay for The Walking Dead coming back Sunday!**

 **CLTex: You're right, Lourdes would have been hypocritical to scold Pippa, which is why I didn't have her flat out yell at her. But her warning to Pip is valid...**


	22. Chapter 22

"Here, Mommy." Jolyon hands me his napkin filled with orange and white sprinkles.

"Thanks," I laugh, accepting it from him, "Can you eat the donut now?"

"Yeah." He nods, taking a little bite.

Jolyon and I are the only two in the donut shop this morning. I ate my mine already and have been patiently waiting over my coffee for him to pick off the orange and white sprinkles and eat his donut. I occasionally glance over at my phone at the messages from my sister and Negan. Audrey wants to know what I and Jolyon want for Christmas, while also trying not sound patronizing for claiming that I don't need to buy anything for her family. She thinks I'm in the poorhouse, even though I can't stress that I'm quite financially capable. Negan wants to know why I cancelled meeting him at that pancake house in Southcastle.

 _"I had to work last night and my mom said Jolyon was throwing up all night, so that's why."_ Okay, I made that last part up, but I thought it would be a good adornishment.

 _"You have a second job?"_ He replies.

 _"Yes."_

 _"Where at?"_

 _"Wouldn't you like to know?"_

 _"Yeah, so tell me,"_ Negan messages, _"Or I'll just ask the kid."_

 _"Fine, asshole. I work at a local diner."_

 _"No, shit?"_

 _"No, shit."_

 _"Well, shit. We could've met up there."_

 _"You want to explain to your wife why you're leaving the house at one in the morning?"_

 _"What's the name of the place?"_

 _"Fuck off :) Like I'd tell you."_

 _"I'll just ask your boy then, dipshit."_

 _"He calls the restaurant by the wrong name, so go right the fuck ahead."_

The bell on the shop door jingles lightly and I look up and smile. "Hi."

"Sorry, I'm late," Caroline hugs me from where I sit, "My alarm clock broke."

"That's okay." I assure her.

She orders a cinnamon roll and some coffee, before sitting down at our table. "Hi there! How are you?"

"Good," Jolyon tells her, "Mommy let me have coffee."

Caroline smiles excitedly. "She did?"

"It's just milk with a splash of coffee." I claim, oddly afraid Caroline will disapprove.

"My dad use to do the same thing," She chuckles, "So, whatcha been up to?"

"Work and Jolyon." I smile, "I haven't really had much time to do anything else."

"You should come with me to wine and art classes on Thursday evenings," Caroline suggests, stirring some cream into her coffee, "Sherry convinced me to go one night and I'm hooked."

I snicker softly. "She goes with you?"

She waves her hand. "Oh, no! She's a bit of a lightweight, the poor thing. She only went the one time."

I bring my cup up to my lips. "Sounds like it could be fun."

"Oh, you'd love it! Sarah comes at least twice a month."

"She does?" I ask, bewildered. Since when does my mom attend wine and art class? She's literally never mentioned it to me and I've been back for four months.

"Oh, yeah," Caroline nods, chewing her cinnamon roll, "I always love talking to her. We use to talk all the time, you know, about the crap you and Dwight use to pull, but lost touch for a while."

I look over at Jolyon's frosting smeared face. "I'm sorry about that."

She simply shrugs. "Don't be sorry, it's nobody's fault. It's just how things are."

"Yeah," I give Jolyon a wet wipe from my purse, "Here, wipe your face, please."

"What are those?" Caroline nods to the napkin of sprinkles between us.

"Jolyon doesn't like orange or white sprinkles."

"They taste weird." He explains to Caroline.

"Oh, well then you were right to pick them off," She laughs, before she lets out a breezy sigh, "I wish those two would hop to it already."

I offer up a faint smile. "Maybe they're waiting for the right time?"

"Oh," Caroline rolls her eyes, "That's what Sherry says, but she's been saying that for years. And they always say it's something they've both decided upon, but I know my son would be ready at the drop of a hat. He's just waiting for her."

"Well," I sigh, not wanting this conversation to end, "I can't say much on the subject. Jolyon wasn't planned."

"No?"

I shake my head and glance over at him, smiling when he looks at me. "He was a happy accident. But, if he hadn't come along, my parents probably would've solely depended on Audrey for grandkids."

Caroline chuckles. "Sometime I wonder what would've happened if..." She pauses for a moment, looks off to her coffee, and then back to my face. I can tell that my face isn't conveying a readiness to hear, or talk about what I think we both know she's on the verge of bringing up. "You know, I should stop. I love Sherry so dearly and couldn't ask for a better daughter. Her and Tina are so lovely. I should just be grateful with what I've got, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah." I mouth inaudibly. Too bad this place doesn't serve anything stronger.

"So, would you be interested in the wine and art class?"

"Uh, sounds great, I'll try to pop in one of these days."

"Great!" Caroline brings her hands together with glee.

 **...**

 _"Don't be such a Pollyanna," I chuckle quietly, "Throw it."_

 _"I don't have anything against Mrs. Truesdale," D argues in the dark, "How did I get roped into this."_

 _"She called me a know-it-all and purposely gave me a B on an essay she knows was way better than that."_

 _"So, what the hell does that have to do with me?"_

 _"We're a pair, dude," I put carton down on the ground, "If someone messes with one of us, they mess with both of us."_

 _"I would have been perfectly happy with a B." Dwight looks down at the egg in his palm._

 _"Well, I'm not. Not when I put my blood, sweat, and tears into it, only to get docked a whole letter grade for not putting page numbers in the corners."_

 _"Ever think that maybe your blood, sweat, and tears just wasn't good enough?"_

 _I give an unamused look. "Toss the damn egg, Rollins."_

 _"You toss one first."_

 _A mischievous smirk spreads across my face, before I throw the egg in my hand as hard as I can at the house of my history teacher. It explodes against the garage door and the yoke trickles down._

 _"Shit."_

 _"Shit is right," I cackle at Dwight, "Now you."_

 _Dwight glances at the egg again and then sighs. He gets in a pitcher's position and sends the egg flying towards the house, nailing one of the windows._

 _"Nice."_

 _"Alright, let's go."_

 _"Hang on, champ," I pick the carton off the ground, "We got ten more, so don't step off the mound just yet."_

 _"Come on, Pip," He groans, "This is stupid...and my mom just bought those."_

 _"I'll buy her more," I say with a cocky inflection, "I bet I can hit the door from here."_

 _"Nah, it's too far."_

 _"Are you calling my pitching skills into question?"_

 _He smiles. "You can't hit it from here. Not even I can hit from here."_

 _"Twenty bucks says I can."_

 _"Twenty bucks says you can't."_

 _"Get your wallet out, baby." I get into position, eye the door, swing my arm, and release the egg. It lands just short of the door._

 _Dwight leans over. "Should I get my wallet out?"_

 _I playfully shove him away. "Cool it, I've got four more on my side."_

 _"Twenty bucks to whomever can nail the door?"_

 _I wink at him and pass the carton. We both send the eggs towards Mrs. Truesdale's house and miss. The two of laugh and each take up another egg. The entirety of the carton splatters against the windows, garage door, and finally the green front door._

 _"That was mine!" We both call out, pointing to the egg that hit the door._

 _"It was mine." Dwight looks at me adamantly_

 _"Bull- fucking- shit it was!" I haughtily scoff. "I watched it leave my hand and land on the door."_

 _"Oh, that's such a fucking lie!" He laughs, "It was mine, Pippa, and you owe me twenty bucks."_

 _"No, you owe me!" I break out into a giggle, after trying to maintain a serious face._

 _"What the hell are doing?!" A man yells from the front porch. Dwight and I look at him, frozen. "I'm calling the police!"_

 _"Oh, shit!" We both curse, before booking it down the street. The man, Mr. Truesdale, I presume, yells after us, but we just keep running as fast as we can. We make it to Dwight's truck that's parked around the corner and stop, hunching over and panting like dogs._

 _My lungs are on fire, but I can't help but laugh breathlessly. Dwight's hands are on his knees, as he looks up at me. He starts to laugh, too, which cause the two of us to hysterically cackle like out of breath hyenas._

 _"That was hilarious!" I say between chuckling._

 _"Alright," D sits down on the ground, after nearly falling from laughing so hard, "I'll admit that was pretty funny."_

 _I have a seat next to him, zipping up my hoodie. "Stick with me, kid."_

 _He peers over my way, then reaches into the back pocket, maneuvering his wallet out. "Here."_

 _I take the two ten dollar bills from him. "I thought it was your egg that hit the door?"_

 _"Nah, it was yours."_

 _I peck his cheek. "You're a good sport."_

 _Dwight huffs, humored. "You're not."_

 _I giggle. "I can agree to that."_

 _I can feel his finger tuck my curls behind my ear. I turn my head and look at him. Dwight leans over and kisses me. I kiss him back and soon we're softly making out on the curb. A faint, but fast- approaching police siren enters the air, pulling us apart._

 _"He really called the police." I say to Dwight with wide eyes._

 _"Fuck!" Dwight shoots up and puts his hand out for me to take. "We gotta go!"_

 _I rapidly open the passenger's side of the door and leap in, as Dwight runs around to the other side. He slams his door shut and fiddles with keys for a minute, until he gets it in and fires up the truck. We speed out of there like holy hell is after us. I look back and panic a little when I see red and blue lights flashing far behind down the road. Dwight drives the truck into an area that's thicker with woods and turns off the car._

 _"What are you doing?" I ask, frantic._

 _"They're just going to the house, " He looks over, "They won't come looking for us."_

 _I look out the window. "Where are we?"_

 _"My grandpa and I go fishing near here."_

 _I lean back against the seat. "That was...close?"_

 _"Maybe."_

 _"My heart feels like it's gonna burst out of my chest." I laugh._

 _"Yeah."_

 _We both in unison glance over at each other. Our breaths shallowly huff between us and then we connect. Dwight and I make out more hungrily than before. I get on top of him, letting him hold my hips. My hands trail down his shirt, slipping underneath to touch his bare skin. I don't know if it's a rush of adrenaline, or what, but I just want to be as close to him as possible. I feel what I can only guess to be his penis suddenly present under me. I stop kissing him and glance down to his lap._

 _Dwight looks down and breathily flickers his eyes back up at me. "Sorry."_

 _I tuck his blonde hair, that's just past his ears behind them and look more intently at him. "Um, do you-"_

 _A tap on the window startles both of us and our heads both whip towards the police officer authoritatively standing outside the truck._

 **...**

"Mommy took me to see a movie the other night!" My eyes creep open at the sound of Jolyon's voice. Fuck, the sun's up. "It had fishes that could talk."

I stiffly move myself up off my stomach. My head feels like a bowling ball. A surge in my stomach sends me up and over to the bathroom to puke.

"I like it! Mommy let me put it on the fridge with a magnet."

"Jolyon?" I pathetically creak out.

"Was it cool?"

"Jolyon!" I spit into the toilet and flush.

"I made a picture at school," He continues to talk, "Want me to give it to you?"

"Jolyon!" I shout more clearly. I hear footsteps coming to my bedroom. Jolyon comes in two seconds later with my cell phone to his ear.

"Hi."

"Who are you talking to?" I knit my brows together.

"Dad," He answers casually, "It was ringing and I picked it up and it was Dad!"

I look down at the phone in his hand. "Um..."

"Mom's up," Jolyon tells him into the phone, "Do you want talk to her?" I stand there in silence, waiting for him to get an answer. Jolyon looks up at me. "Okay."

He holds up the phone to me. Fuck! I reluctantly take it and put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"...Salutations." Oh, god.

"Um, how are you?" I croak, sitting down on my bed. Jolyon lifts himself up as well, sitting right next to me.

"I am currently in good health," He replies promptly, "It sounds though as if you cannot say the same. Are you ill?"

"No, I'm...I'm fine," I fight down the urge to vomit, "I just woke up."

"...Okay."

I look over at Jolyon. "Do you want me to put Jolyon back on?"

"Yes, I would like that very much, however, I'd like to discuss some matter of import with you first."

"Ookay," I roll my eyes at his highfalutin manner of speaking, "What matter of import?"

"Is he in the room with you presently?"

"Yes, he is in the room with me presently." I say, slightly mocking.

"Um, perhaps it would be better if we spoke in private, considering the subject."

I furrow my eyebrows. "What's this about?"

"Has Jolyon gone to-

"What's this about?" I repeat more firmly, cutting him off.

"...Well, I thought I would petition you for a more suitable arrangement between the two of us and I predict that you will not be entirely agreeable to said arrangement, which is why I'd like for you to excuse Jolyon."

"What arrangement?"

 **...**

I ring the doorbell and wait on the welcome mat with Jolyon's hand in mine. I can hear Sherry tell Dwight to get the door from somewhere towards the back of the house. I lose my cool for a minute and have to regain it before he opens the door. Jolyon looks down at the little flowerbeds, while putting his finger up his nose.

"Stop picking your nose." I tell him and he just silently obeys. The door opens and we're face to face with Dwight. "Hi."

"Hi," He greets back, then glances down at Jolyon, "Hey."

"Hi!" Jolyon smiles, which is the first I've seen since this morning.

"Come on in." Dwight steps aside, so we can enter.

"Thanks."

"Hey!" Sherry gleefully chimes, taking out a roller from her hair. "You brought your boy!"

"Uh, yeah," I force a genial smile, "My parents were going out tonight and you said he could come, so..."

"Absolutely!" She chuckles. "Well, I hope you like shepherd's pie."

"Yeah, sounds good."

The four of us sit at their small kitchen table for dinner. I know, I probably shouldn't but I accept the beer that Sherry offers me. She jokingly claims that she tried to figure out how to make dinner herself, but had to have Dwight stand in and then completely take over.

"I really should consider taking a cooking class," She laughs, "But I have to admit, I like having a husband who can cook."

"I'm sure." I grin back, before tipping back my beer. Dwight flashes a look my way, but I don't know what to make of it. I can't honestly tell if it's scolding or apologetic.

"I hate it when he doesn't get home until late and I have to fend for myself, "Sherry adds, "That's why there's so much take out in the fridge."

I snicker through my nose. "Well, our fridge doesn't look that different and I cook pretty well, so don't beat yourself up."

"That's a relief."

My eyes blink towards Dwight again. "So, I met your mom at the donut shop downtown yesterday morning."

"You did?" He asks me, looking slightly worried.

"Yeah, she invited me to this art thing that apparently my mom goes to."

"Oh, yeah, I went to that once, "Sherry says with a small chuckle, "I got sick from drinking a little too much and D had to come get me, right, hon?"

"Uh...yeah." Dwight replies, evidently not recalling such a time.

Sherry sweetly rolls her eye. "He's got a shitty memory."

"Apparently," I nervously chuckle.

She affectionately moves some hair out of his face. "I always feel so bad. He gets so frustrated whenever he can't remember things."

"Important things," Dwight faintly clarifies, taking her hand and kissing it, "I can't hold onto the things I should remember."

"I can remember for the both of us, D."

Watching these two interact feels awkward, so I glance over at Jolyon who's been rather quiet. "You okay, baby?"

He shrugs, spooning some mash potatoes in his mouth. I know he's upset after what happened this morning, but I thought he'd buck up with better company than me around.

"If he doesn't like the food, I've got some mac and cheese in the pantry." Sherry tells me.

"No, he's fine," I insist with a smile, "He's just moping."

"Oh."

I look briefly to Dwight when I feel his eyes on me, before I smooth my hand over Jolyon's curls. "Did you tell Sherry and Dwight where you're going next weekend?"

Jolyon looks up from his plate to me and then turns his head their way. "I'm going to sleep over at my friend Hannah's house."

"You are?" Sherry says with the same excited tone that Caroline had. "That's exciting."

"I never sleeped at someone's house before," He continues, "Except my dad's, but he lives far away, right, Mom?"

"Right," I take swig of my beer, "Jolyon and Hannah are best friends at daycare."

"How cute."

"My dad called our house," Jolyon informs them, "And I picked up Mommy's phone because she was sleeping because she didn't feel well and it was my dad. We talked for a long time, until Mommy yelled at him and hung the phone up."

I stare at Jolyon, mortified. My eyes peek at the two across the table, utterly embarrassed by my kid's words. They don't know that not "feeling well" is Jolyon's understanding of what happens when I drink, but that last part was awful to hear aloud. Especially in public. I finally look at Sherry and Dwight and feign a laugh.

"We had a disagreement and I got a little heated."

"Oh," Sherry answers, chuckling awkwardly, "Well, I'm sure you were in the right."

I smile and pretend not to notice Dwight's eyes. I look up at the clock on the wall behind them. "Well, we better get going pretty soon. I've got to be up early tomorrow."

"Okay," She looks at Dwight, "Honey, you wanna follow them home?"

"Yeah," Dwight gets up from the table, "Let me get my jacket."

I help Sherry clear the table really quickly and thank her for the dinner. She gives Jolyon a cookie from the pantry and gives me a friendly hug goodbye.

"We'll have to do this again."

"Yeah." I nod my head, stepping outside, "See ya later."

"Bye!" Sherry waves. Dwight goes to walk out the door, but she stops him to kiss his cheek. "Don't be long, okay?"

The low, almost purr of her voice makes him look down at her. "Okay."

I only had the one beer, so I didn't need Dwight to follow me home; I just let him anyway. Jolyon falls asleep in the back fairly easily, despite the drive being only fifteen, twenty minutes tops. I pull into the unpaved driveway of my house and quietly get out of the car, so I won't disturb him. Dwight parks his car and gets out, striding over to me.

"Need help getting in?" He asks.

"Um, if you wouldn't mind opening the door for me." I murmur, gently laying Jolyon against me.

Dwight follows me up to the porch. I hand him my key, so he can unlock the door. Once the door's open, I take Jolyon straight to his room for bed. I very carefully remove his jacket and shoes, then place a little blanket over him, so I won't have to get him under the covers. I plant a delicate kiss on his forehead, before turning on his nightlight and leaving the room.

Dwight's still standing by the door. "Uh, can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, it's...well, you know."

"Thanks." He stalks pass me.

I move my neck this way and that way, trying to work out the tension I feel, as I walk into the kitchen. I stroll around the table and exit through the other archway into the living room. I reach the couch and plop down, putting my sighing face into my hands. The toilet flushes a moment later, along with the running water from the sink. The water shuts off and then footsteps creak against the hardwood floor. Dwight enters the living room.

"Thanks for seeing us home." I rasp.

"Sure," He hesitates, before walking towards me. He sits down next to me. "So, what happened this morning?"

"Jolyon's father wants me to send him to Texas for Christmas." I exhale heavily.

"Oh..."

"He said that since Jolyon spent Thanksgiving with me, it only seemed fair that he spends Christmas with him."

"I take it you disagreed?" Dwight says, a little humored.

"I reminded him of our arrangement and that I wasn't willing to negotiate things."

"Would it be a bad thing if he did go?" He asks curiously. "I mean, what's the harm?"

I turn my head his way. "Him and I made a deal when Jolyon was born and another after I decided to move back home. It might seem unfair, but it's what's best for Jolyon."

"Okay."

"I guess you better go," I yawn, "Sherry told you to hurry back."

"Yeah." Dwight leans over and kisses me, then goes to stand.

"Wait." I put my hand on his leg.

"What?" He glances down at my hand.

I slide my hand up his thigh and over his crotch. He doesn't convey any signs of wanting me to stop, so I pivot my body more his way and use both my hands to undo his belt. I keep my eye on him, while I stick my hand down his pants and into the slit of his boxers. Dwight's eyes close as he inhales sharply at the feel of my hand.

 **...**

"Thank you, ma'am," Simon takes the twenty bucks from my hand, exchanging it for a few, pre-rolled joints, "Pleasure doing business."

"Have fun with Lourdes." I dryly retort, catching sight of her coming our way.

"Oh, I intend to." Simon grins.

"Hey." Lourdes greets the two of us.

"Hi," I smile, tucking the baggy into my jacket pocket, "Have a good lunch."

"Thanks. Would you like to join us?"

"Yeah," Simon wraps his strong arm around Lourdes, "Would you like to make our duo a trio?"

"Um, no, thanks," I fight the urge to roll my eyes, "I'm just gonna eat lunch in my car."

"Okay, well see ya." Lourdes waves, before her and Simon walk off to his car off school grounds.

When I get into my car, I drive down the street, past the daycare and park. I fish the lighter out of my purse and light one of the joints. I numbly observe the cars pull into the lot fifty feet away to get tacos from the taco truck. In the rearview mirror, I scope out Negan's Mustang coming this way for the same thing the other cars came for. He drives just pass my Jeep and then decides to park right in front of me. It would've been easier to park behind me and he knows that. He gets out of the car and immediately looks at me.

I take a drag from my joint and exhale by time he meanders up to my car. "Hey, baby," I wryly joke, "How much fun can we have for twenty bucks?"

Negan throatily laughs. "Very cute. What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm at lunch, same as you."

"Why are you all the fuckin' way down here?"

"I bought some weed from Lourdes' boyfriend and I thought it'd be setting a bad example to smoke it in the school parking lot." I let smoke billow from my lips.

Negan swats the smoke out of the air. "That and you'd get fired. Possibly arrested."

"You gonna snitch on me?" I chuckle.

"You gonna make me an offer not to?" He retorts, opening up the door behind me, sitting down on the edge of the backseat with his feet on the sidewalk.

"I'll buy you some tacos."

"That's not what I meant," Negan snickers, looking at me, "But I'll take it."

"Good, 'cause I'm getting hungry." I put the joint to my lips.

"Yeah, I bet."

"Want a hit?" I extend it his way.

"No, I don't," Negan leans forward a little, "Hurry up, will ya? I want to eat before the bell rings."

"Okay." I take one last drag, before tossing it on the ground.

"My wife's going to this school thing Friday and won't be back until Saturday afternoon." He informs me, as he closes the door.

"And you want to meet up?" I lock my car and start to walk to the taco truck.

"Are you free, or are you gonna be waiting tables?"

"Well, it just so happens that Jolyon's got a sleepover in town on Friday and I will not be donning the polyester, so...yeah, I'm free."

"Cool."

I smile at his breezy response. "You wanna go to the same place as last time?"

"Nah, that place you picked was a shithole."

"Yeah, well, you didn't brighten up the place."

He chuckles, strolling up to the truck. "I'll pick the place."

I don't know why, but my cheeks rosy a little with excitement. "Okay," I murmur.

"Alright, let's order up some grub, your treat." Negan bangs his hand on the metal counter to get the cook's attention.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter! If you aren't familiar with my other fic, Save Yourself, I encourage you to check it out, because it just broke it's hiatus!**


	23. Chapter 23

I decided to show a modern film version of Othello in my junior classes today, because we just finished the play and winter break is just around the corner, so I figured I'd lighten the load. About twenty minutes into class, I call a hall monitor to stand in on my sixth period, so I can step out to use the bathroom.

I pass the gym on my way and while I hear sneaker-screeching, ball-bouncing activity going on inside, I don't see Negan among the adults in the room. I only see the three other gym teachers that Negan's technically head of, since he's head of the physical education department. It doesn't really mean he's the boss of the other teachers, but that also doesn't mean Negan hasn't used his seniority in his favor.

When I start to wonder where he is, I suddenly remember that he told me way back that he taught health class at the end of the day. It sort of makes me curious to see how that plays out. After I leave the restroom, I take a peek down the left end of the hallway, where the home ec. and health room are. I don't have to hunt for too long, because I can soon hear Negan's deep, loud lesson going on behind a door I'm coming up on. There's a pause in his lecture, before a collective "Ew!" from the students, followed by Negan's throaty laughter.

"Ms. Barnes?"

I'm startled by a rather loud inquiry behind me. I turn around and see Ravinder standing with a hall pass in her right hand. "Oh, hello."

"Don't you have a class?" She asks, innocently.

"Um, yeah, but I...needed to go to the copy room to get some things I had copied earlier." Why the hell am I lying and explaining myself to a student?

"Oh, okay," Ravinder nods, "Is it the prompt for our next essay? I know you're not giving it out until after break, but I could maybe have a copy early?"

"It's not the next essay assignment, but I'll see if I can get it done to email to you before break's over."

"Okay, thank you."

"Excuse me," Negan gets both of our attentions, "I'm in the middle of a lesson. Can we take the chit chat elsewhere?"

I make a snide face at his oh-so-serious facade, before turning back to Ravinder. "You should get back to class, Rav. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, later, Ms. Barnes." Ravinder continues walking down the hall and goes inside Lourdes' classroom.

"You're such an ass." I sharply whisper to Negan.

He smirks. "Get back to class."

I flip him off. "I'm going to the copy room, jerk."

And so I walk to the copy room without actually needing to go there, but it beats going back to my classroom after Negan's teasingly ordered me to. It's a second copy room, so staff members don't always have to go all the way to the main office to make copies. It sort of works out, because you don't have endure the tsk-tsk looks from Diane or other office workers when you make over the copy limit, nor do you have to risk catching flack from Principal Coolidge.

But the copy room is more like a copy closet. It's fairly small and usually warm, whenever someone's previously made copies. I open and close the door, standing alone in the closet and counting in my head to sixty. A tall shadow appears behind the paper curtain on the window and the door softly opens.

"Makin' copies?" Negan asks, shutting the door behind him.

"Yes."

"Then where's the original paper?" He raises his brows and smiles.

"I-" I look down to my empty hands and then chuckle, "I forgot it."

"Liar."

"Okay, smartass," I retort, "I left the bathroom and wandered down this way."

"To find little 'ol me?" Negan smirks again, taking a step closer.

I put my hands on his shirt and find no struggle in bringing him up to me. "No, I was looking for Lourdes."

"Bullshitting liar." He quietly laughs, kissing me.

"We should get back to class," I say, continuing to make out with him, "So our hall monitors don't have to stand in for too long."

"What hall monitor?" Negan laughs, lifting me up and setting me down on the flat, glass surface of the copy machine.

I pull back and look into his eyes. "No one's watching your class?"

"They're not fuckin' going anywhere."

"Yeah, but they could-"

"Could what?" He scoffs, "All go apeshit and out of control?"

"Well, kids sometimes do that when they think they can get away with it."

"Nah, those kids are too fuckin' scared of repercussions to step a toe out of line." Negan pushes back my skirt a little.

"What are you gonna do? Rap their knuckles with a ruler?" I joke, before swatting his hand away. "Cut it out, we're not doing it in here."

"No, but I can dole out some detentions like you wouldn't fuckin' believe and my detentions usually require running two miles on the track, or bleachers runs."

"You're a dick," I shove his hand away again, "Stop it!"

"I'm not trying to pork you on the copy machine, so relax." Negan chuckles, still fixing up my skirt.

"Ew, don't call it 'porking'," I wince, feeling his bicep, "That's such an unappealing term for it."

Negan laughs under his breath, flickering his eyes back up to mine and maneuvering my legs apart. "You mean, as opposed to nail, screw, plow, fuck, -"

"Ssh," I place my hand over his mouth, "You're not doing yourself any favors."

"I have a few more." He tells me with a muffled smile.

"Keep 'em to yourself." I incline over until my mouth just about touches my hand, before removing it from his mouth and replacing it with my lips.

Negan's arms lean on the machine as we kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck as I take in the virility of his body. The copy machine suddenly comes alive underneath me.

"Shit!" I glance down at the line of light drag to one end of the screen and back. "What did you do?"

"My hand must of hit the button." Negan answers, looking over at the side slot where the copy will spit out. When it's produced, he plucks it from the stand and smiles into a laugh. "Well, hello, Ms. Barnes."

I snatch it from him to take a look. It's a copy of my parted legs, just shy of exposing my ass, because of the little bit of skirt concealing it. I huff, then stare daggers at Negan. "You did this on purpose."

"Really?" He chuckles, "I made a copy of your legs spread seagull on purpose?"

"That's why you were messing with my fucking skirt!" I push him back, so I could hop off the machine. "Pervert."

"Fuck off, it was an accident." Negan grabs the paper from my hand, glancing at it. "Although, I wouldn't mind firing one off to this."

"Ugh," I steal it back and drop it in the paper shredder just on the other side of the copy machine, "Maybe we should cancel this weekend."

"Oh, come on," Negan snakes an arm around my waist, drawing me in, "I didn't do it on purpose and it's fucking shredded, so get your panties out of a twist."

I peer up at his smiling face and sigh, frustrated, from my nose. "I need to get back to my class."

"Are you staying after work?"

"Yeah, I've got some assignments to catch up on." I open the door, peeking out into the hall to make sure no one sees us leave the closet.

 **...**

"So, have you heard from your parents since Thanksgiving?" I ask Lourdes, who's hung around after work, while she waits for Simon to pick her up.

"Nope," She shakes her head, "I guess my dad's been pretty adamant about not contacting me."

"And your mom?"

Lourdes rolls her eyes. "She usually gets in touch with me, despite what my dad says, but maybe he's being the 'voice of reason' to her this time. Or he's watching her phone calls."

"He'd do that?" I ask, a little shocked.

"Yeah, my dad's a real controlling prick," Lourdes unwraps her granola bars, "Always has been, always will be. That's why I ran off when I was seventeen."

"You did?" I put my pen down on the homework paper I was grading.

"Yeah," She bites into her granola bar, "In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea. I ran off with my boyfriend, who was eight years older than me and turned out to be a mean drunk."

I try not to bear a look of pity, since I know she'd hate that. "So, you went back home?"

"No," Lourdes looks over at the clock on the wall, "I moved in with his much nicer friend, but this new guy and I sort of had an open relationship."

"I see."

"My mom begged me to come back after about five months, but I couldn't go back to living in the house of such a domineering man," She adds, "So, I just continued to live with this new boyfriend while working at the deli and going to school. Things worked out, though, I'm in a much better place now."

"Yeah." I bleakly nod.

I try to fight away the instinct to draw conclusions about Lourdes' past to the relationships she's had now. I'm not a psychiatrist, nor am I in any shape to make assumptions that her apparent series of bad relationships are a result of her daddy issues. I had a great relationship with my father and I've not yet had a successful relationship.

"Where's my baby at?" Lourdes asks me.

I snicker. "I lent him to Negan, I'm afraid."

Her face dowers. "Oh."

"He...likes Negan and Negan likes to watch him for me."

"Where are they now?"

"Um, it's cold out, so I asked Negan to keep him inside," I explain, "They're probably in the gym."

Lourdes nods, glancing up at the clock. "Come on, already!"

"Your car's still in the shop?"

"It was only suppose to be one day, but the part didn't come in." She answers.

I look up at the clock. "Maybe the traffic's bad."

"Yeah, or Simon's taking his sweet time." Lourdes huffs.

I chuckle. "You know, if you want, you can come over to my house for Christmas. Well, it'll be at my folks' place, but they won't mind if you...and Simon showed up."

"Oh, that's sweet of you," Lourdes tenderly smiles at me, "But Simon said we'll go away for Christmas."

"Where to?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "No sé."

Jolyon's breathy laughter can be heard down the hall, coming closer. We both look to the door in waiting. Negan enters the classroom with Jolyon laughing like a goose on his back.

"Lourdes." He winks.

"I'm gonna go try to call him." Lourdes tells me, ignoring Negan, as she walks to the door.

"Okay." I reply.

Negan takes a gander at her ass as she leaves, before peering over at me with a smile. "Boyfriend leave her stranded?"

"Mind your own business." I warn him.

"That's all the answer I needed." He chuckles, confidently letting Jolyon down.

"Mommy, feel my hands!" Jolyon runs over to me.

"Oh my goodness!" I playfully shriek, as I enclose in mine,"They're little icicles!" Next, I cup his face endearingly. "And so are your cheeks." I look over at Negan. "I thought I told you not to take him outside."

"I believe your exact words, were 'I'd like it, if you stayed inside', "Negan grins, "That was a request, not a command."

"Funny," I scoff, hugging Jolyon to me when he climbs up, "Shall I send you the bill when he gets sick?"

"Oh, relax," He waltzing over and musses Jolyon's hair, "A little winter cold never fucking hurt anyone."

"You've clearly never read Jack London's To Build a Fire." I retort, kissing Jolyon's cold cheek.

Negan laughs. "That was in the Yukon, asshole."

"Mom, snuggle with me." Jolyon says with a shivering glee.

I huskily chuckle, holding him tighter to me and swaying him to and fro. "Going home?"

"Yeah, Lucille wants me home."

"Oh," I remark with a snotty inflection, "When she says jump, you go and get the trampoline, huh?"

Negan gives me the finger. "Go fuck yourself."

"Watch your mouth in front of my boy." I cackle.

"Yeah!" Jolyon laughs, affectionately laying his head on my collarbone.

Negan smiles. "I gotta go."

"So, go."

"Are we still on for later?" He asks me, "Have I redeemed myself by watching Jolyon for you?"

"I didn't need, or ask you to do that," I scoff in mock arrogance, "And since when do you care if your image is tarnished?"

"When it affects my weekend plans, that's fuckin' when."

I grin, "You may have to make it up to me in... other ways."

Negan naughtily chuckles. "That I can do."

 **...**

Dwight's truck rolls up around ten- thirty and when I see the lights from the half-open kitchen window, I dab out the joint I had been smoking, shut the window, and then quietly make haste to the front door, so he won't knock. I just put Jolyon to bed and I don't want him waking up and asking questions. I open the door to the cold and wait for Dwight to walk up the porch. He looks over his shoulder, as if the neighbors across the street will see him entering my home.

"Hi."

"Hi," His breath is visible, "It's fucking cold out."

"Yeah," I chuckle with a slight shiver from standing by the door, "Do you want something hot to drink?"

Dwight rubs his hands together. "Uh, I don't want to trouble you."

"I just made some hot toddy," I lock the door and go into the kitchen.

His footsteps follow behind me. "How was your day?"

"It was...normal," I pour some of the hot liquid into a mug, "How was yours?"

"Long," Dwight sniffs, taking the mug from me, "Thanks. I just came back from South Carolina."

"How long have you been gone?"

"Just a day." He drinks some of the toddy and makes a face.

"Too hot?" I ask.

"No, it's just...strong."

"Oh," I snicker, "You didn't go home first?"

Dwight shakes his head. "No, I told Sherry I wouldn't be back in town until after midnight."

I go over to him and kiss his lips that were made warm by the drink. "You must be tired."

He touches a frozen hand to my hip. "I am."

"Then why didn't you just go home and go to bed?"

"Because I wanted to see you."

"You could see me any 'ol time," I softly smirk, "All you have to do is go the store, or go to Lorelei's, or...walk five steps outside your house," We both chuckle gingerly, "My point is, is that Camden's small."

"Lucky me." Dwight snickers.

I almost feel as if he means that. "Your hands are cold."

"Sorry."

I put a coveting hand to his face. "And your face his cold."

"My heater broke in my car," He grins lightly, "All of me is cold."

I give a kiss where my warm hand touched, "Let's go to my room and see if we can do anything about that."

Dwight swigs from the mug, before setting it down and following me into the hall. We silently foot our way down the hall, only allowing the floor to occasionally creak, because it can't be helped. I hold up a hand for him to stop, pausing my own feet when Jolyon coughs inside his bedroom. It's a groggy, hoarse cough, which makes me throttle Negan in my head.

I wait a few moments, listening for signs of Jolyon waking up, before I give myself and Dwight the go ahead to proceed to my room. I let Dwight go in first, so that I can listen for good measure for Jolyon. I then close the door and turn to find Dwight sitting on the edge of my bed. I strip down by the door and tread naked over to the bed, helping him undress.

Dwight stops halfway, letting me remove his clothes, while he places his hands and mouth on my feverishly warm body. When I've taken off everything above his waist, he stands and starts to undo his belt. I crawl onto the bed and lay down on my stomach, looking over my shoulder to watch him. Dwight turns around and I smile when I see his eyes traipse up my frame. I roll myself onto my back and flourish when he climbs onto the bed and me.

We make out for what feels like an eternity, until he reaches over into his jacket and fishes out a condom. After that, we carnally embrace. Everything rises in me like an elevator. I feel more excited and breathless with his body against mine. Thirteen years and he's the only one who can macerate me like this. I know maceration is typically a softening; weakening process, but years of feeling so dull and icy has me craving this heat. With Dwight it feels good, reanimating.

My moans and mewls sound so desperate. He just has that effect on me. I want him to fuse into me and to never pull us apart. But Dwight finally grunts, rather abruptly, and he ceases in place. I feel him buck once, twice more before he lets out a heavy, relieving groan. The heat radiates off our bodies in the small space between us.

I kiss the side of his face, petting the back of his head as his heaving breath softens. I feel his mouth place one or two kisses on my skin, before lifting his head to take my mouth. Dwight then rolls off to the side, brushing his hair back with his hand. I turn to my side and lay my head down against his chest. His arm snakes around to hold me.

"I have to go pretty soon."

My expression dampens. "I know."

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Dwight asks, sitting up for a moment.

"Go ahead." I respond, waiting for him to lie back down.

After lighting the cigarette, D reclines back and puts his arm back around me. "So, did you and my mom meet Saturday on purpose?"

"Yes," I sweep my hand down his body to his below his navel where a line of light hair exists, "She called and asked if I wanted to meet."

"What'd you talk about?"

I shrug against him. "Nothing major."

"Then why'd she call you?" He exhales smoke. "There's a window open, right?"

"In the bathroom," I answer, fiddling with the line of hair, "And she called because she wanted to talk with me. We haven't seen each other in a long time."

"That's true, I guess." Dwight takes the end of my comforter and pulls it over us. "So, just catching up?"

"...Yeah."

"Okay."

I furrow my brows a little."Why do you ask?"

His head shakes back and forth, coolly. "Just asking."

"I'm glad you came."

"Me, too."

"I love you." I confess, yet again. But he says nothing and I feel utterly degraded. "When you got home Sunday, after leaving, did you have sex with her?"

Dwight takes another drag from his cigarette. "Yes."

"Even after we had sex?"

"I didn't last as long, but I...made up for it."

That burns, even though it's my own fault for asking. "Did you tell her you love her?"

Dwight's brows knit, before he glances down at me. "...Yeah, I did." God, it feels like he's grated me against asphalt. "Why are you asking me this?"

I lower my eyes, trying not to let tears come, or my throat ache. "Just asking," I croak.

"Well, why are you asking?" He presses.

"Forget it."

D scoffs incredulously, "Do you not want me to tell my wife I love her?"

"I didn't say that," I lightly snap, rolling away to my back, "I don't care if you love Sherry. In fact, I'm glad you do."

"Whatever." He sighs, continuing to smoke.

"It's just that..." I exhale through my nose, "I've told you that I love you, like ten times, and you never say it back."

Dwight brings himself up. "I can't say it to both of you, Pippa."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Why not?"

"Because we shouldn't even be doing this, Pip," He blurts out, "It's not right and I...I love Sherry, but I can't stop thinking about you. I shouldn't be sneaking around behind her back, but if I am, I can at least show her the respect of not telling anyone else that I love them."

I look at him, despairingly. "So, you love me, but you won't say it?"

His face is remorseful and he quickly glances away, before pushing himself off the bed. "I have to go home."

I wrap the covers around me. "I'm not asking you to not love her, D, or to leave her."

"I know you're not." He says, putting out the cigarette in the bathroom sink.

"I just...I just want you and I want you to want me back the same way."

"I do want you."

"When it's convenient for you?" I snort out a bitter laugh, hot tears scorching my face. "I say I love you and you say think about me?"

"I think about you all the time," Dwight clarifies, as he gathers up his clothes, "Sometimes it...gets in the way of other things."

"Of Sherry?"

Dwight shifts his weight, frustrated, and then gives me a look. "She's my wife, Pippa. She comes first, or should come first anyway and I'm not sorry if that bothers you."

"I've given you more," I brazenly claim, completely aware of how wrong it is.

He looks at me like I've got a screw loose. "We've been married for thirteen years. We've built a life together. Christ, Pippa, you and I...dated in high school."

"I'm not saying I love you more, or better than she can, but I've given you so much more. And I think you that. I think you know what I mean."

Dwight's face changes from disbelief to a look that resembles a deer being caught in the headlights and then struck. He licks his lips and numbly nods, before he silently resumes dressing.

Ever have one of the voices in your head that tell you to shut the fuck up and let the silence be the end of the conversation? Well, mine went to bed. "I gave you a lot, Dwight."

"Yeah, well, you also took a lot, too." He dryly retorts. A split millisecond after saying that, his face cringes. "Shit," He curses, "Pippa, I didn't-"

"Get out." I darkly tell him.

Dwight looks at me with deep apology. "Pippa, I-"

"I said get out!" I cry fiercely, "You get the fuck out of my house!"

"I didn't mean to say that."

"Get. Out!" I sob. "I just fucking want you to leave!" Dwight takes a pleading step forward. "Get the fuck out!"

"Mommy!" Jolyon whines from all the way in his room.

"Shit!" I cuss quietly, walking to the door. Dwight starts to do the same, but I stop him with my hand. "No," I say curtly, "You have to stay here until I see what's the matter."

I leave my room without Dwight and try to collect my miserable self as I pad down the hall to Jolyon's room. When I push open the cracked door, Jolyon's sitting up in bed in waiting.

"What's the matter, baby?" I inquire, wiping tears from my under my eyes.

"I need to go potty." He says with a husky voice.

"Okay," I sniff, "Let's go potty."

He gets out of bed and takes my hand, leading me out of his room to the bathroom right next door. I wait outside for him, thinking maybe he didn't hear me yelling, even if that's what woke him up. The volume, not the content of my words. The toilet flushes, so I open the door to him stepping up on his stool to wash his hands. Jolyon looks at me, waiting for me to adjust the knobs to get the water temperature just right.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" He asks me, as his hands go under the faucet, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying, baby." I bleakly smile at him. "I'm just getting the sniffles."

Jolyon hops off the kiddy stool and we go back to his room. "Mommy, my nose has boogers."

"Do you need to blow your nose?"

"Mm, no." He snuggles down into his bed.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get him back down. I quietly bring his door to a near close, before I wallow back to my room. From the sliver of opening in my door, I make out Dwight sitting on my bed with his head in his hands, only dressed in his boxers and shirt, same as when I left him. When I open the door, he straightens up and his watery, guilt-sick eyes fix on mine.

"You can go now," I rasp at him, "He's asleep."

Dwight rises from my bed, but doesn't move right away. Like he's momentarily lost on what to do. After said moment, he continues getting dressed, while I stand by the door, so that I can see him out when he's ready. He puts his boots on last and then looks at me again. I turn my head, letting my arms hold themselves. Dwight walks over to the door and I.

"Pippa," He gruffly murmurs, "I'm sor-"

"Just go." I flatly cut him off. Dwight sighs heavily, but instead of leaving, he extends his arm and his fingers graze my arm. "Dwight, I said go."

He gently pulls my arm from its mate and steps closer. "I'm sorry."

I can feel tears rise up again, so I push his hands away. "Stop. Go home."

"I didn't mean to say that," D mildly insists, "I'm sorry, Pippa."

I struggle to fight back the tears, as well as to keep him from bringing into his arms. But it's all in vain. My hand hits his chest, before I place both of them over my face to conceal my distraught. Dwight's arms hold me tight as I sob against him.

"I'm sorry," I wail into his chest, "I've- I've been drinking and- and I'm high and-"

"It's all right," He shushes me in a soothing murmur," I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that. It's not true."

His words make me break even more and I feel his lips kiss my head the way I do Jolyon when he's upset. My breath juts whenever I inhale, but I try to be as quiet as possible.

"I'm sorry, Pippa." Dwight's voice sounds strained as he tries to calm me down. "I'm so sorry. "

"You hate me!" I lament.

"No, I don't," He kisses my head again with more firmness, "I love you and I never haven't."


	24. Chapter 24

"Alright," I fasten up the zipper on Jolyon's jacket, "You've got your jammies?"

"Yeah." He nods.

"And your toothbrush?"

"Yeah."

"And your change of clothes for tomorrow?"

"Mommy, you packed them!" Jolyon laughs. I jokingly raise my brow in question. "Yes!"

I sigh, standing up. "Well, it looks like you are set then."

"Ready to go?" Hannah's mom smiles at Jolyon.

"Yeah!" Jolyon excitedly answers.

I laugh. "Can I get a hug?" Jolyon reaches his arms up and I scoop him up, ensnaring him in my arms. "You be good for Paula and Dan, okay?"

"Okay, Mom."

"They have my number, so if you need to call me, you can, alright?"

"Alright."

"Do you want me to let you go, now?"

"Yes." He giggles.

"Okay." I loosen my grip and let him slide down.

"Okay, let's go," Paula brightly says to both Jolyon and her redhead daughter, "I'll call you around noon?"

"Yeah, thanks, Paula." I smile back at her, as she, Hannah, and Jolyon leave Happy Hands to the mini van in the sleety parking lot.

"Ms. Barnes?"

I turn, "Yeah?"

Miss Jessica, one of Jolyon's favorite teachers and one of Negan's other women holds up a sunshine yellow folder. "I thought you'd like to have these."

"Oh," I take the folder, glancing down at it, "Um, what are they?"

"There Jolyon's art work," She sweetly smiles, "All the kids have a folder for their arts and crafts. We put some of it up, but once the folder gets full, we send it home with the parents and start a new one."

"Oh, thank you." I smile back at her.

"Have you been...dating recently?"

I halt from leaving the daycare and look back at her. "Uh, what?"

Jessica politely shrugs. "Well, it's just that Jolyon's pictures sometimes have...well, men in them and I know you're a single parent."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I've counted about five men," She adds, "Well, one is his grandpa, one he said was his dad, another was a lady's 'friend', um..."

"Lourdes?"

"Yes, that's the name!" Jessica exclaims. "And the other two are your 'friends'. That's what Jolyon said."

"Oh," I chuckle, embarrassed, "They're just friends. I work with one of them and the other's just an old friend."

Jessica smiles, but I can tell she doesn't seem to believe me. "I don't mean to pry. It's just that Jolyon also said that his dad lives far away and Monday he said that you fought over the phone... I'm sure it's just a little imagination."

Fought? Please, like he even stood a chance. I bore my claws and teeth; all the better to unjustly rip him to shreds with.

"Um, do you think I should...take him to therapy, or something?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's that big of a concern," She offers an assuring giggle, "Kids sometimes make more of their parent's relationships with other adults when they're in single family households. Especially, if the other parent isn't accessible. They just yearn for that two parent structure that they use to have."

I know her intentions are meant well, but I can't help but to be a little offended. "Jolyon's never had a two- parent household."

"Oh," She looks a little surprised, "Well, then he's probably seen it in other homes and drew conclusions."

I take a deep breath. "Thanks for the folder."

"You're welcome!" Jessica jovially replies. "Have a nice weekend!"

I tread out into the cold in a huff to my Jeep. Once I'm in, I open the folder and flip through some of Jolyon's drawings and paintings. Well, she wasn't wrong; a lot of these have one of the five men she's listed. The only reason I can manage to pick out whom they might be is because of what I can guess is going on in the picture.

Like the ones with my dad have my mom in them, too. I can tell by the green purse. And the one's with his dad are noted by the haircut. There's only one of Simon, since Jolyon's only met him once. We're all eating at Lourdes' table, there's the dog, and Simon's mustache is unmistakable.

The one's with Negan involve a football, or basketball. Thank god he's only three and doesn't really hone in on the facial details. Pretty much every person looks like spoons with limbs. There's also a few with Dwight, whom I know because he's the only one with yellow hair. Here's one of him fixing our sink and another at the grocery store.

The pictures with just him and I are sweet. Except for the two where I'm horizontal and have blue tears, way bigger than anyone could possibly cry out, coming from my eyes. That doesn't feel too good.

My phone vibrates, so I close the folder and drop it in the passenger's seat. It's Negan, asking me if I've left yet.

 **...**

The Red Swing Motel is one of those typical motels you'd drive past and joke about people having affairs behind closed doors. I'll admit it's got some small charm to it, but it's for sure a place that never has to use the neon "no" on their vacancy sign. I pull into the spot next to Negan's car, below the second floor room that's guarded by white railing.

Room 34. That's the room he told me he booked. By book, he must have meant just two minutes after he arrived himself. There's no way this place holds reservations. I get my overnight bag, along with the plastic grocery bag, and carefully step out of my car to avoid the thin puddle of ice right outside my door. I then sling the bag over my shoulder and walk up the metal stairs that boldly strengthen the sound of my footsteps. When I get to the door, I knock.

"Housing keeping!"

I hear his deep laugh from behind the door. "I didn't call for maids!" The door opens a second later. "But I did order room service."

"Please, you'd need a foot of your intestines removed, if you ever fucking ate anything this place cooked up."

Negan chuckles, letting me pass him. "Sure as hell beats the fuck outta the place you picked last time."

"Sure about that?" I take a look around the simple room. "I'd hate to take a black light to this room." He laughs, closing the door. "Or is anything I'd find all yours?"

"Funny," Negan scoffs, "What the fuck took you so long?"

"I had to stop at the liquor store."

"Had to, or wanted to?"

I sit down in one of the chairs that's set with a little table by the window. "I did buy booze, but it was just while I was waiting for Simon."

"Simon?" He arches a brow, as he gets into my plastic bag.

"Lourdes' boyfriend," I inform, "That's his name."

"What were you meeting him for?" Negan smirks. "Is he your side piece? Is that crap about mustached men true?"

I snicker, shaking my head. "I was buying from him."

"Buying what?"

"Girl scout cookies," I huff, "What do you think?"

"Think you need it?" Negan retorts, inspecting the liquor bottles. "You've got some strong shit here."

"Strong shit?" I chuckle, "Are you mouse, or man?"

"Fuck you," He chuckles back, "So, I guess I hit a homerun when I pegged him for a dealer, huh?"

"You have your moments," I wink, before looking over at my buzzing phone. Dwight's calling me, but I have to ignore it.

"Is it the kid?" Negan asks me upon seeing my smile softly fade.

"No," I put my phone in my purse, then rise from the chair, "How gross is the bed?"

"It's clean," Negan strolls over to me with a dirty grin, "For now."

I reach down and take hold of his belt. "I hope you weren't planning on taking in the town."

"Not in the least, darlin'." His hand cups the side of my face as he passionately kisses me.

We take the first few moments slow, but I heat things up quickly by undoing his belt and taking off my own clothes. I put my hand down his pants, stroking him as he peels off his clothing. He produces a condom from his pants, as he struggles to kick off his shoes.

"Ribbed?" I ask.

"Yeah."

I smile at him, craning myself up on my toes and putting my arms around his neck. "Atta boy."

Negan snickers, hotly bringing our mouths together, while touching the small of my naked back. Next, he pushes me on the bed with a playful roughness that makes me laugh as he climbs on top of me. I moan when his mouth touches my thighs and stomach, but in truth, I'm sort impatient. I don't want to be tasted head to toe; I want to be devoured.

"Hey," I comb my fingers through his black hair, "This isn't a romance novel for old ladies, you can get a little rougher than that."

A devilish glint flashes across Negan's eyes as his smile rises. "If you fuckin' say so."

His hands grip the backs of my knees and he rudely pulls me closer to him, before he hungrily crashes his mouth onto mine. My filed down finger nails press against his bare back as I feel his erection against me.

"Ease up on the claws." Negan tells me, as his teeth graze my neck.

"Watch the fangs." I laugh in response.

Negan's laughter is overshadowed by the buzzing in my purse. I can't help but to look over at my purse on the table. I hear him tear the top of the wrapper off the condom, while, in the periphery of my eye; I can see him follow my gaze.

"Answer it later."

I turn my head to look up at him. "It could Jolyon this time."

He towers over me, placing each hand above each side of my head. He smirks, "Leave it."

"Well, it could also be my other gentleman caller."

Negan chuckles in his throat. "Doubt it."

"You think I don't have someone else?" I arch my brow, folding into a raspy giggle as he comes down to kiss me.

"I think you like bustin' my balls." His lower half presses me to the bed, until he wraps my leg around to his back and enters me.

Negan begins to roughly thrust into me on the blank white motel sheets. My arms serpent to his back in an attempt to encourage him. "Harder," I mewl with some volume. Negan picks up the pace, while bucking a little deeper than before. "Harder."

He doesn't retort with any smart-ass quips, he just thrusts harder and faster. The bed knocks against the wall, which oddly turns me on. Our moaning gets a little louder than it normally would be. Maybe because it's one of the few times that our sneaking around doesn't have to me so hush-hush, since we're at motel a few miles out of Southcastle.

"Harder!" I cry out, which makes the bed bang harder against the wall. "Oh, god!"

A sudden, angry pounding combats the bed from the other side. "Keep it down!"

Negan chuckles between moaning, which gets me started, and then thrusts even more, causing both me and the bed to be more vocal. The guy on the other side bangs his fist against the wall again. "Why don't you shut the fuck up?" Negan booms.

"I'm calling the front desk!"

"Yeah, if you can get your dick outta your hand long enough!" I shout back at the wall.

Negan goes into a fit of laughter, which forces him to stop. It sends me into cackling, as he lowers his head to laugh. My hand instinctively runs through his hair, gently resting my thumb behind his ear. When he looks back up, our smiles and fiery eyes meet. Negan's eyes trail my face, as he softly pants, before he pecks my lips, once, twice, three times.

"Should we put a fucking dent in the wall?"

"We should at least try," I smile, "If not, then aim for the silver and scuff the paint."

"Second place is for losers." Negan chuckles, before he delves into me again.

 **...**

Negan groans into a husky laugh, as he rolls off me onto the cheap bed that, surprisingly, didn't smell like sex before we had at it. That's not the case now. I lay in ecstasy on my back, panting with radiant warmth through my body. Negan tosses his condom into the bedside trashcan, before lying back to catch his breath.

After a few minutes, I force myself up and go over to the table, where I twist off the top of the gin bottle. "Are there any cups?"

"Styrofoam cups."

I go over to the kitchenette that Negan points to and pluck a little cup from the stack, then walk back to the table. "Want some?"

Negan looks over at the bottle, before putting his hand out. "Yeah, bring it here."

"You're not drinking straight up from the bottle." I scoff, tipping some of mine into my mouth.

"Then get me a fucking cup," He smirks, "Please."

"Well, since you said the magic word." I snicker. After handing him a cup and pouring some gin in, I saunter back to the table to get my phone from my purse. Dwight's called me three times and left a message, asking me to please call him when I can.

Negan gets up and goes into the bathroom. I'm still pretty sore about the fight we had on Wednesday night, but I'm still gonna call Dwight back real quick to see what he wants. The phone rings once, twice, thrice, four times, before:

"Hello?"

"Hey, you called?" I respond in a low voice.

"Yeah, I think I left my jacket at your house the other night." Dwight answers.

"Yes, you did," I sigh, "I was wondering when you'd notice."

"Well...it was kinda the last thing on my mind," He slightly huffs, "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you still upset about what I said?"

The toilet flushes in the bathroom, which pauses my answer. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm still a little hurt, but I'm not mad at you."

"I wish I could take it back."

"Well, you can't, so just forget about it," I watch Negan exit the bathroom, "Water under the bridge."

"...Okay. So, can I drop by to get my jacket?"

"I'm out of town and I won't be back until tomorrow," I turn away from Negan's bewildered furrow, "But I have a key taped under one of the porch steps, if you want to use it to get in."

"I don't want to go into your house when you're not home, Pip."

"It's not that big of deal, D," I quietly chuckle, "It's not like you're a pervert, or anything." Something very lightly hits the back of my head, so I look over my shoulder at Negan and then the Styrofoam cup on the ground. "Besides, if anything goes missing, I know exactly where to send to cops."

Dwight chuckles. "True."

"Just make sure you tape the key back under the step, when you're done."

"Alright, thanks."

"Sure."

"Pippa?"

"Yeah?"

"...I love you."

My eyes glance to the side, as if trying to see if Negan can hear our conversation. "I thought you said you couldn't say that."

"I know, but I owe it to you." He replies.

That makes me feel bad, like I inadvertently guilt-tripped him into saying something he said he couldn't say. "You don't owe me anything, baby."

"Well, I still love you," D adds.

"I love you, too." I finger taps the edge of my cup. "Listen, I gotta go, so I'm gonna let you go."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later?"

"Definitely." I smile.

"Bye, Pippa."

"Love you, bye." I hang up the phone and put it on the table, so I can throw back the gin in my cup.

"Who was that?" Negan asks behind me.

"No one you know." I scoff, getting up from the chair and going back to the bed. "Or will ever know.

"Was it a man?" He takes the bottle from my hand and sets it on the end table on his side.

I place my hands behind my head, stretching out my naked body like a cat. "Maybe."

"Tch, you lying asshole."

"I told you I had another beau," I tease, "You thought you're the only one who can string 'em along?"

"By the sound of that conversation," Negan scoffs, "Sounds like you're the one getting strung along, sweetheart."

One of my brows cruelly inclines. "Sounds like you're jealous. Are you worried you're being put on the lower shelf with the second place trophies?"

Negan chuckles derisively. "I'm not jealous that you told another man that you loved him," He runs his hand up my thigh, "If that was even another man. For all I fuckin' know, you're just being a bitch, and that was your mom, or something."

I bite my lip, trying to hold off a devious smile. I sit up and straddle him. "Don't worry, Negan. I'm not gonna stop seeing you."

Negan scoffs again, smiling a toothy grin. "I just fucked your brains out, honey, I don't think I have to worry about anything."

"No, you don't," I sweetly murmur, kissing him, "Even though I like him better than you."

"Is that right?"

I nod, sensually peppering his neck, face, and lips with slow kisses. "Yeah, but it's okay. Size isn't everything," I slowly grind my body against his sheet veiled lap, "Performance is all that matters. Although, come to think of it, he's a lot better in bed than you."

"Fuck you." Negan shoves me to the side, as he goes to get up.

I cackle cruelly. "Oh, come on, baby, I was just joking! Sort of." Negan stalks over to where his clothes are, clearly pissed. "Don't be such a sour puss. You fuck other women. I can't be with other men?"

"I don't fucking care what you do when I'm not around," He curtly states, as he dresses, "You're nothing special."

"Oh, is that what Lucille says that makes it okay for you-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Negan shouts with a dark anger in his stare. "Don't fucking bring my wife into this!"

"Is she ever really involved in your life?" I retort, "Is that why you fuck your co-workers? She's all the way at the top and you...you're a weed that grows in her busy shadow."

"Go fuck yourself." Negan pulls on his jacket and angrily snatches up his car keys.

"Well, someone has to," I laugh, unable to stop, even though I know I'm being awful, "Maybe, I'll call him back."

"Why don't you fucking do that?" He scoffs, before opening the door and slamming it so hard the walls shake.

My sense of victory is very short lived. My chest silently heaves up and down. I hadn't realized how worked up I got in this spat, so now that Negan's left, I can't steady my breathing. Why did I do that? What possessed me? It was so foul and unnecessary and I knew it, but I couldn't stop myself from saying those things. He could've said anything and I would've spit venom at him.

When my uneven breath draws up the possibility of tears, I sink onto my back and reach for the bottle of gin.

 **...**

The music is up as loud as it will go, which is notch seven out of ten, because the knob is broken on the motel radio. It's a pretty loud volume, but it can't drown out the authoritative pounding on the front door. I close my eyes, as if it'll block out the unwanted noise, as I sway my head to the sultry jazz inside the bathtub.

"This is the manager!" A voice shouts beyond the door, rapping against the door again. "Open up, right now!"

I roll my eyes, before getting out of the lukewarm tub water and crookedly sauntering barefoot to the door. I open it up, as the manager's in mid-pound. "What's up? What do you want?"

The manager's eyes widen and he looks off to the side after looking me over. "Uh," He loudly clears his throat, "There's been three noise complaints about this room. You need to turn down the music."

I take a drag from my cigarette. "Was it that guy on the left?" I nod my head that way.

"All complaints are anonymous and you can't smoke in the rooms."

"It's not about the music," I dryly claim, "He heard us screwing in here earlier." The manager takes a quick, puzzled peek inside the empty motel room. "So, was it 33 that made the complaint?"

"I'm not telling you that. Turn the down the music, or I'm gonna have to-"

"Or how about him?" I lean out, which causes the manager to step back, "Was it you that com..." I'm a little stunned to recognize the man who's innocently about to enter his room two doors down, "complained?"

"No, I didn't call the front desk, " The man calmly says, looking me in the eyes, "I'm not bothered by the noise. I actually like it."

"Ma'am," The manager injects, "You need to go back inside and turn off the music."

I can feel my eyes grow blank as I turn back to the manager. "It's not that loud. In fact, it's broken and I'd like to request a new one."

"You need to-"

"You need to relax!" I drunkenly chuckle. "I've got a spliff in my purse, why don't I-"

"What's going on here?" Negan asks, before he comes into sight.

The manager, who's like an inch taller than me, seems to be somewhat nervous when Negan approaches. "I got a noise complaint and your wife here won't-"

"She's not my wife," Negan clarifies, before setting eyes on me. When he does, it's immediate anger and shock, "Jesus!" He pushes me into the room, entering in the process. "Put some fucking clothes on!"

"Fuck you." I retort under my breath, inhaling from my cigarette.

"Look, sir, I don't want to get the cops involved, but if I have to, I will." The manager informs Negan with an attempt to sound stern.

Negan turns his unpleased look onto the manager. I assume he lightens up and smiles, because of the tone of his laugh. He sets down the plastic bag in his hand on the chair closest to the door, as he approaches the manager.

"That won't be necessary," Negan leans his arm against the doorframe, towering over the guy, "We'll keep it down."

"It's not just the noise, sir," The man tells Negan, "There's no smoking allowed in the rooms and-"

"I'll make her put it out."

I huff, laying like a corpse on the bed. "The fuck you will."

Negan chuckles at the manager. "She'll put it out."

"Well, it's not just cigarette smoke I smell." The manager reports and Negan shoots a look over his shoulder, "Look, there's been several complaints and I've personally counted five violations, so I have to follow protocol."

"I get it," Negan schmoozes, "Rules are rules and rules are important."

"R-right," The manager seems confused by Negan's agreeing, "So, that being said, you-"

"We have to follow the rules, if we want to stay," Negan finishes the guy's sentence for him, "I can assure it won't happen again."

"But, I have to-"

"It's my own fuckin' fault, really," Negan interrupts, "I decided I wanted the full night with my lady friend here, after an _amazing_ half- hour," I can't see the guy's face, but I can imagine it's red and embarrassed, "I ran to the ATM and I guess I should've brought her along. I'll make sure she's a good girl for the rest of the evening."

The manager clears his throat. "Well, I-I believe you, but I still have to call-"

"How long have you been married?" Negan, for the thousandth time, cuts him off.

"Uh...three years."

"The first couple of years are the best, aren't they?" Negan charms, "My marriage is sort of on the rocks at the moment, I don't know if you can relate."

"Sure, I understand."

"Of course, you do," I can hear Negan's smile, "Look, I'm not proud of what I'm doing here. I love my wife and I'd hate to explain this to her. It'd break her heart. So, how about I apologize and give you my word that we won't cause anymore trouble?"

"Well, I guess that'd be alright," The manager agrees, "But if there's so much as a peep coming from this room, I'm calling the cops."

"Understood."

"And put the damn cigarette out!"

"Have a nice night!" Negan waves his hand, before he shuts the door. He then turns around and his humor is gone. "Read the fucking the plaque." He points to the little plastic sign on the wall with a cigarette circled with a slash across it.

"Fine," I dab the cigarette out on the realtor magazine on the nightstand, "But only because I'm done."

He runs his hand down his mouth. "What the fuck's wrong with you? You're somebody's mother."

"You're somebody's husband."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who answered the door stark ass naked, blitzed off my ass, and arguing over the volume of the radio." Negan turns the radio off. "You're a fucking train wreck."

"An you're a psychopath," I snort, "Acting all charming and lying to that guy's face. I wasn't sure if you were planning having a beer within him. "

"I didn't lie," Negan sits down in one of the chairs, "I did run to the ATM."

"So, you gonna pay me?"

"Do I get a discount for your issues?"

That makes my throat clench, but I remain aloof. "Nope."

Negan sits down in the chair I previously sat in, reaching over to get the bag he came in with. "Is there really another man?"

"Yes," I reply frankly, "And I do like him better."

He scoffs. "I don't fucking care."

"Good," I bite the corner of my lip, "Where'd you go?"

"To get away from you," He answers, "And to go buy some more condoms."

"You only brought one?" I snappily scoff.

"I thought I had more, but apparently I went through them."

"You're an asshole."

"Right back at cha."

The high from the joint hasn't worn off yet from when I smoked it twenty minutes before my cigarette, so I feel as if I'm sinking into the bed, as my eyes blink lethargically open and close. Tears trickle down the sides of my face.

"Thanks for not letting me get arrested."

"Well, I would've gotten fuckin' arrested, too, so it was more for my own fucking self-preservation."

"Did you eat?"

"No."

"Do you want to order a pizza, or something?" I look over at him. "Half cheese?"

Negan looks me over with chagrin, before sighing. "Sure."

"Hand me my phone, please." I put my hand out.

"No, I got it." Negan takes his phone from his back pocket. "Is there a number for one over there?"

I sit up, searching the little visitor's guide. "Here's one."

"Read the number."

"757-555-0011"

Negan orders the pizza a few minutes later. "It'll be twenty minutes."

"Okay," I nod, pushing myself off the bed and over to the table, "Are you mad at me?"

"Yeah," Negan scoffs, sitting up straight, "I'm not really fuckin' happy with you and I think you fuckin' know that."

I nod, twisting my mouth to the side. "Why did you come back?"

"Because my name's on the room and I didn't want you trashing the place," He glances over my nakedness, "Apparently I was smart to comeback."

"I didn't trash the place."

"No, but you fuckin' almost got the damn cops called on you."

I move until I'm standing before him. "I'm sorry for earlier."

"No, you're not."

"Yeah..." I climb on him as he sits on the chair. "You wanna kill twenty minutes, until the pizza comes?"

Negan huffs incredulously, "Are you fuckin' serious?"

I unzip his jacket. "Yeah, we can do it here...or on the table."

His eyes seem to examine me in a way I've never thought to be a good way, whenever I've seen it in other people. It's like he's starting to get a sense of me. Like that expression of staring into the abyss. But his gaze lowers in further thought, as if compromising that maybe he isn't all that better.

Negan sighs, frustrated, "Well, get off me then, so I can open the box."

I grin, stepping back, so he can stand. He quietly goes over to the other chair where the box of condoms lay in the white plastic bag. I lean my bare bottom against the table, patiently waiting with a sliver of satisfaction, among a heap of self-loathing. Negan glances over as he pulls one from the box, then taking a half step closer, until he's in front of me. I offer a polite, meek smile, moving myself forward a little, so that our bodies will touch. But, the moment my hand touches his forearm; Negan takes my arm and uses it to turn me around.

My palms of my hands brace the table, but I feel a flare of excitement. Negan bends me over more onto the table and the hardening member in his pants presses against my leg. The sound of his zipper being undone and his belting clinking makes my breathing softly incline as I wait in anticipation. I glance over my shoulder to see Negan rolling on the condom. The next sight of his hands gripping my hips sends an ache through me. Our eyes meet and his face is serious.

"Turn around." He tells me.

I look away from him and a second later, I feel him slide into me, causing me to moan. Negan sighs as he eases into me, as if it feels good, but at the same time, he's disappointed. He begins to thrust hard and determinately, knocking my thighs into the table. I cry out in pleasure, which seems to make him both angry and hot enough to groan. An open, euphoric smile creeps upward onto my face as he obliterates the sadness that I knew was seeping out of the pit in my heart.

 **...**

The morning is harsh and freezing. The motel doesn't have heating, so I wake up huddled in the fetal positions, tightly gripping the starchy blankets in my fists to the point that it hurts to open my fingers. The room is empty, as it has been since about two o'clock in the morning.

At some point after dinner, I fell asleep, unsure of when exactly. I do remember after we had sex against the table, Negan told me to put some clothes on, while he walked to the bathroom. I remember throwing on clothes, when the pizza guy knocked on the door and Negan was still in the shower. I also recall the two of us eating in near silence, while watching a hockey game on the little T.V.

I started off eating on the end of the bed, while Negan sat at the head. I remember how awkward it felt, because I don't think I've ever been around Negan when he wasn't taking the air out a room. The words out of his mouth at first were a mixture of explicatives and praises to the people on the screen. Jolyon called me about five minutes in to tell me goodnight. When I got off the phone, I picked up my plate to grab another slice.

Negan mildly asked if that was "the kid" even though he knew it was, but I still told him yes anyway. I used it as an opener to ask about the hockey game. He answered flatly without taking his eyes off the television. When I treaded back to the bed, I braved to sit up at the head of the bed, next to him, which he didn't seem to mind.

I don't remember feeling guilty about how I had behaved earlier, but instead felt an indescribable desire to have him get over what was said and done two and half hours before and to smirk that cocky smirk of his again.

Believe it, or not, we had sex for a third time. It was after a funny commercial had come on, which apparently we both found humorous. The mutuality caused us to look over at one another, both smiles fading. I got on top of him and we went from there. Afterwards, he got up and poured some of the bourbon I had in the bag still into a cup and threw it back, before asking if he could borrow one of my cigarettes, which I obliged.

I don't think he smokes. However, when he came back inside, the chilling air carried in a faint smell of smoke. I think I'm responsible for that. Negan poured another cup of bourbon after he took his jacket off. The last thing I can remember is watching the shadow of the liquid fill the cup further than it was before. I think I did that, too.

Around two in the morning, my eyes fluttered opened, because of what I can't say, but they caught sight of Negan shrugging back on his jacket.

"Where are you going?" I hoarsely asked.

Negan looks over at me. "I'm going home."

"Okay." And I didn't wait for him to close the door before I let my eyes drop down like curtains.

This morning, I feel sore and sort of dirty, even though I took a hot shower. I left the bed unmade and what trash that could fit into the garbage can in the garbage can, before I threw on some clothes and got the fuck out of there. When down at the front desk, I was initially relieved that the clerk wasn't the same from last night, but upon giving her the room key, her eyes immediately set on me, obviously hearing from the manager about the smashed escort in Room 34.

I walk to my car, mortified, but also indifferent. I throw my overnight bag into my backseat, really wishing that the car seat would be filled with one Jolyon, but also grateful that it isn't, given the circumstances.

"Good morning!" A voice calls beyond my car.

My brows knit a little, as I lean my head to the side to see who's greeted me. It's that guy from the other room. "Good morning," I say, unsure.

The man approaches me; with what I can now see are a pink box and a drink carrier with two coffee cups with wisps of steam.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left." He smiles with kindness.

"You are?"

"Yeah," He tells me, "I walked down to the donut shop across the street and I figured you might want some coffee."

I politely chuckle. "Really?"

"Well, you seemed like you were having a bad day yesterday and I heard your...boyfriend leave this morning."

"He's not my boyfriend," I reply. The man nods, so I feel the need to explain further, "Oh, he's not a customer, either. Despite what you may have heard."

The man shrugs. "No matter."

I smile lightly. "I'm sorry about the noise and... everything else."

"I wasn't bothered by the noise," He claims, "I sort of come and go, so it's always nice to have some signs of life close by."

"Yeah..."

The man holds up the drink carrier. "Half and half, if you want it."

I hesitate for second, before accepting the coffee. "Thanks."

"Do you like bear claws?" He opens up the lapel of the pink box.

"Sure." I reach in and take one.

"I'm Paul by the way."

"Pippa," I take his hand, "I think we may have met before."

"Have we?" Paul says with slight bewilderment in his friendly face. "I thought maybe you looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place you. I meet a lot of people."

"My son was crying in the parking lot of a pharmacy," I remind him, "You asked me where you could get something to eat."

His eyes light up, as if his memory's refreshed. "Oh, that's right! You told me to go to Lorelei's."

"Yeah, I did."

"Thanks for the recommendation," Paul smiles, "It was a good pick."

"Glad to hear," I smile back, "Well, thanks again for the breakfast."

"No problem."

I open my car door, set the coffee cup in the cup holder, and the bear claw on the center console. "Good-" I turn back to an empty space that he once occupied, "-Bye."

My eyes scan the second floor for the benevolent stranger, but he's gone.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed two chapters this week! As you may know, I haven't posted a new chapter of Save Yourself this week (Which I know is the more popular fic). I had midterms this week and fell a little under the weather, so I wasn't able to map everything out SY.**

 **Being said, I thought I'd post two chapters of FYIWAF, because it's sort of easier to write for me and both chapter were originally going to be one chapter. I will be posting a new Save Yourself chapter next week and may not post for For You I Was A Flame, depending on time. I will also be answering any questions in the reviews from Chapter 38 next week. Thanks for all the support!**

 **CLTex: Jolyon's dad may not be so relenting in the future. Pippa has a pretty formidable personality and a fierce mama-bear parent, so it'll definitely be interesting... And I think Negan will definitely be on the look out for the diner!**

 **StTudnoBright: I'm glad you liked their little ongoing joke! I think Negan sometimes likes it someone can throw it right back at him.**


	25. Chapter 25

"How about this one?" I stand in front of a five-foot tree that's a little sparse.

Jolyon inspects it. "It's too small!"

"It is not," I claim, "I think it's perfect."

"Mom, Santa likes big trees!"

"Well, Santa isn't the one who has to drag it in the house," I retort, chuckling, "This one, please."

I took Jolyon to this Christmas tree farm about an hour and half north of Camden. They let you pick out the tree you want and then you can cut it down yourself, or let them do it. I let the worker do it, since I'd feel a little guilty about it.

"Sure you don't want something a bit bigger?" He asks, holding the axe low by the handle.

"Yes!" Jolyon says.

"No," I shake my head, smiling at him, "This one's fine."

"I take it's what you can carrying on your own?"

"You guessed right." I reply, keeping an eye on Jolyon.

"So, you're single?"

I turn my attention back to the man, looking him over. "I am. What's it to you?"

The handsome man shrugs. "Nothing. I was just thinking to myself how pretty you were and how lucky whoever landed you must be."

I scoff, my breath whirling from my mouth into the winter air. "I don't know if lucky is the right word."

"Seems like a good enough word to me," He charmingly smirks, "Even if short-lived."

A smile creeps up on my face. "Smooth."

"I'm Yancy," He puts his hand out.

"Pippa," I accept his offer, "Now, cut my damn tree down."

Yancy smiles, humored. "Yes, ma'am." He raises the axe up before swinging it down on the trunk. Through layers of winter clothing, I can picture the virile physique underneath.

"Are we gonna decorate it when we get home?" Jolyon's mitten-clad hand takes mine.

"Sure are," I fix his hat, making sure it covers the tops of his ears, "But we should pick out a few ornaments at the store, don't you think?"

"Yeah!" He perks up a bit, nearly jumping off the ground.

The tree yields, falling down to the left of us. Yancy's chest rises and falls with exertion, while he smiles back at me.

 **...**

The phone rings in the middle of our tree decorating "party." It's just the two of us, putting the ornaments on the tree branches, while listening to festive music, but Jolyon keeps calling it a party. Probably, because I have cookies in the oven, a pizza coming, and I promised we'd watch old Christmas cartoons at dinner.

"Hey, you can't leave the party!"

"I'm just getting my phone, babe," I pick up my cell phone, "Hello?"

"Hey," Audrey says back, "Whatcha doin'?"

"We got our tree and now we're decorating it."

"You just now got your tree?" Asks Audrey, surprised.

"It's a week before Christmas." I reply.

"We get ours the week after Thanksgiving!"

"That's too early," I mosey back into the living room, "I only have to sweep up pine needles for one week."

"You don't leave the tree up until New Year's?"

"No, why would I? It's a slowly dying tree, I don't want it around any longer than necessary."

"Scrooge." Audrey laughs.

"Whatever," I chuckle, "What's up?"

"You're the last person I have to buy a gift for," She informs me, "So, it's time to tell me what you want."

I groan inwardly. "Can I call you back?"

"You said that last week, Pippa!" Audrey exclaims. "You seriously haven't thought of one thing?"

"I've been a little busy, supporting myself and Jolyon, thank you."

"I thought you said you weren't hard up?"

"I'm not, but it's still a little time- consuming when there isn't another person to tag in."

"Whose fault is that?" Audrey snorts, acridly, "You made that choice. In fact, you made that choice for-"

"You know what?" I cut her off, "Let's not do this now.

She sighs, "Yeah, you're right, sorry."

"...My coat's a couple years old."

"You could use a new one?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay...So, have finished your shopping?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"So, no, you haven't," Audrey laughs incredulously, "You're unbelievable."

"Again, I've been busy."

"Well, you better hustle."

"Yeah."

"Mommy!"

"I have to go, so I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, love you, bye!" Audrey hangs up before I can say bye back.

In perfect timing, the doorbell rings. "Pizza's here!"

"Yay!" Jolyon cheers.

"Yay." I say with less enthusiasm, treading over to the door with my wallet. I open the door, "How much do I owe you?"

"What?" Dwight asks, confused.

"Oh...uh, I thought you were the pizza guy." For whatever reason, I look out into the yard, where his truck is parked.

"Can I come in?" He inquires with a chill to his cadence.

"Yeah, sorry," I step aside for him to enter, "Come in."

"Thanks," Dwight stalks in, "You got the fire goin'?"

"Yeah, it's electric," I follow him into the living room, "We don't have a real one with a chimney, or anything. Jolyon, you remember Dwight."

"Hi!" Jolyon waves. "You came to the party!"

"We're not having a...never mind," I snicker, glancing at Dwight, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes, please." He nods.

"We'll be right back, Jol."

"Mommy?"

I turn halfway. "Yeah, babe?"

"If we don't have a chimney, then how will Santa get into our house?" He innocently inquires.

"We didn't have a chimney in Texas and he still managed to get in." I casually respond.

"How?"

"...Magic."

"Okay." Jolyon nods, returning to the tree.

Dwight laughs under his breath. "Real clever answer, Pippa."

"He's three." I chuckle.

When we get into the kitchen, I pluck a mug from the cabinet and turn to Dwight. "So, what brings you here?" I ask him, pouring some hot cocoa into the mug. "It's three in the afternoon on Sunday. Why aren't you at home, or...someplace with Sherry?"

Dwight removes his beanie. "Sherry's not speaking to me right now."

"Why not?"

"Um, because I have to work Christmas and I won't be home until late."

"That sucks," I reply, folding a dishtowel, "I'd be pretty steamed, too."

"Yeah, well...I thought last night was the worst of it, but apparently that was just the appetizer."

I chuckle, "So, you stormed out?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"Taking the cookies out of the oven." I answer as I open the oven door.

"Where's your oven mitt?"

"I don't have oven mitts. A folded dish towel works fine."

Dwight snickers, "You're gonna burn yourself."

"I am not," I carefully pull the first sheet of cookies out, "See."

"Just buy oven mitts, Pip."

"I don't need them." I take the second out without injury. The doorbell rings again. "That's the pizza." God, don't let it be Negan.

I pay for the pizza and bring it into the kitchen, where only the aroma of freshly baked cookies greets me. I find Dwight in the living room with Jolyon, hanging up an ornament where Jolyon's finger directs above his reach.

I clear my throat, "Do you wanna stay for pizza?"

Dwight looks my way. "Uh, sure."

"We're gonna watch Christmas shows!" Jolyon tells Dwight.

 **...**

Dwight's hands lightly hold my bare hips, as I slowly thrust on top of him. I can feel a sickly good sensation coiling inside of me with each steady movement, with each groan from his mouth, and with the steadfast gaze of his eyes on mine.

He ended up staying later than I think he was planning on. While we ate pizza, I turned on some Christmas specials, as promised, and I guess we lost track of time as we watched with Jolyon. I don't want to sound all sappy and sentimental, but it felt nice to have him here under a non-sexual circumstance. Even it was only initially non-sexual. Jolyon wanted him to hang the garland over the mantle and to help him put the star on the tree, even though I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. I finally learned that it was half past seven, after realizing that Jolyon was asleep.

I put him to bed and then both Dwight and I hum-hauled around in the hall, as it came time for him to go home. But, as you can tell, he hasn't left yet. His hand travels up my back and he shifts us into switching positions. A glow graces my face beneath the surface, as he peers down at me with a faint, but fond smile. The light glistens off his hair and the heat of his body and the warmth of his eyes illuminate me.

He leans down and kisses my neck and behind my ear, as he inclines into me. I touch his naked back and mewl at the continuance towards the edge. He travels down, taking my breast in his hot mouth.

"I love you," He moans, before breathily kissing me on the mouth.

"I love you, too," I faintly gasp, feeling my toes start to curl, "Oh, Dwight!"

A small, but sure creak gains my attention. I open my eyes and turn my head to the door. "Mommy?"

"Dwight!" I sharply yelp, pushing against him.

He takes a quick glance over his shoulder. "Shit!" He hastily gets off of me.

I scramble to sit up, snatching the blankets up in a desperate attempt to conceal as much as I can from my son. "Hey, baby," I calmly say, holding the sheets and comforter up to my breasts, "What's the matter?"

"I fell asleep." He murmurs with a sleepy whine in his tone. His bewildered, juvenile eyes blink towards Dwight, whose lower half is covered past his navel. "I didn't brush my teeth."

I slowly nod my head; awkwardly tucking some hair behind my ear. "O-okay, um, why don't you go to the bathroom and I'll be in in a minute. Okay?"

"Okay." Jolyon pads off out of sight.

"Fuck!" I curse below earshot. "He saw us."

Dwight exhales, "Shit, " He smoothes his hand down his face, "Should I leave?"

I hold the bridge of my nose, before getting out of bed. "I don't know. This has never happened before." I grab a tshirt and my underwear, scouring the room for my shorts. "He's gonna ask questions, I just know he is."

"What are you gonna tell him?" D asks, reaching for his boxers.

"I..." I put hand to forehead, "I don't know."

I leave the bedroom and meet Jolyon in his bathroom, standing on the stool. I take a breath. "Alright," I open up the medicine cabinet, "Do you have your toothbrush?"

Jolyon nods without a word.

"Okay, wet it and then I'll put on the toothpaste." I turn the faucet on. Jolyon brushes his teeth in silence, which unnerves me. "Go ahead and spit and rinse."

Jolyon spits and rinses. "Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"I saw your boobs."

"I know, I'm sorry about that, baby."

"Were you naked?" He asks, innocently.

"Um, yes, I was..."

"Was Dwight naked, too?"

"He...was." I nod my head.

Jolyon looks confused, as any kid would. "Why? What were you guys doing?"

Fuck! I lean a little on the doorframe. "Um, well," I swallow a lump in my throat, "Dwight and I are friends...actually, we're very good friends and when grown ups are very good friends, they sometimes like to..." Oh, god! I'm thirty-one years old and I can't come up with a good excuse for what we were doing. "Sometimes they like to lay in bed together."

"Like a sleepover?"

"Um, sort of, yeah."

Jolyon looks down, twisting his mouth to the side in thought, before asking, "Why didn't you have jammies on?"

"Well, because adults, who are very good friends, sometime like to be naked together."

"Why?" He furrows his little brows.

"Because, we-"

"Were you having sex?" Jolyon questions and it leaves me floored.

"Uh, w-what?"

"Hannah said her mommy and daddy love each other and that her mommy said that when mommies and daddies love each other, they like to hug each other without their clothes on. She said that's what sex is."

I honestly don't know what to say other than, "Yes, we were having sex."

Jolyon nods, "But...Dwight-"

"Dwight is a very good, special friend of Mommy's," I cut him off, before he says what we both know would throw a wrench in Hannah's explanation and my easy out, "And sometimes special friends...have sex, even if they're not, um, married."

Jolyon thinks for a minute. "Okay."

"Okay?" I sigh, "Are you ready to go back to bed?"

"Yeah," He says with a yawn.

"Alright, baby."

He climbs into his bed and lets me tuck the covers over him. I kiss his forehead and smile down, smoothing my hand over his head. "Mom?"

"Jolyon?"

"Did you and Dad have sex?"

"Honey, let's talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay."

"And," I get a little closer to whisper, "Let's not tell Gran, or Pop, or...anybody else about this, okay?"

"Why not?" He asks me.

"Because it's something that grown ups like to keep private," I tell him with some shame, "It's like a secret."

"Oh, like when we had cake for breakfast and you said I couldn't tell Gran?"

"Yeah, like that," I chuckle under my breath, "So, you think you can keep it a secret?"

He nods against his pillow. "Pinky swear."

I hook my pinky around his. "I love you."

"Love you, too," Jolyon says back, "G'night."

"Goodnight."

"Hey, Mom?" Jolyon adds.

"Yeah?"

"Do Gran and Pop have sex?"

"...I don't know, but let's let that remain a mystery."

"Okay."

I walk back into the bedroom with a heavy heart. I can't believe I just swore my three year old to secrecy about Dwight and I's affair. When I open the door, Dwight's sitting on the edge of my bed and a feeling of deja vu sweeps over me. He looks over at me, reminding me of the pain of last week when we met in here.

He stands up. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," I nod, scratching my nose, as I walk over to the bed, "He asked if we were having sex and I...told him we were."

Dwight furrows his brows, as his eyes convey surprise. "What?"

"Apparently his little friend, Hannah, already explained that sex is when adults hug each other naked in bed."

"So, he..."

"I told him it was a private thing and he promised not to tell anyone," I sit down next to him, "He swore on his pinky and that's the most a kid can give you when it comes to their word."

Dwight scoffs into a chuckle. "I'm sorry."

That familiar feeling gnaws at me. "Don't be sorry. At least the blankets were over us and he didn't see any of the mechanics."

He nods, looking at his watch. "It's...not as late as I thought."

"No," I shake my head, "But, Sherry's probably wondering where you're at."

"Yeah..."

I rise up from the bed. "I'll walk you to the door."

 **...**

"Are you gonna go to this thing?" Lourdes hands me the holiday party flyer.

"Um, depends on whether, or not I can get someone to babysit Jolyon," I look it over, "I think my parents are doing something with their friends that night."

"How about I watch Jolyon for you?" She giggles.

I smile at her, puzzled. "Aren't you going?"

"Mm, no, I don't want to," Lourdes shakes her head, "It's always the same old, same old. I like Diane, but she's a shitty party planner."

I snicker, "Well, then maybe I won't go either."

"Damn, I was looking forward to hanging out with Jolyon." She cackles, pulling into her parking spot.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask her.

Lourdes looks over at me. "Sure, what is it?"

"...Um, never mind." I grab my coffee and bagged scone, about to open her car door.

"What?" Lourdes insists. "Is it...Negan?"

I wince a little. Negan walked right past me this morning in the parking lot, as if he didn't see me. Which I suppose could've been the case, but I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure it was because of how I acted Friday night. "Sort of."

She looks a little unsure, but she ultimately nods with some reluctance. "Okay."

"Uh, did you...were you ever involved with anyone when you and him were sleeping together?" I glance over at her. "Is that too personal to ask?"

"No," Lourdes shrugs, peering out her window, "Um...I was dating this guy when Negan and I started hooking up, but he found out and gave me an ultimatum. I stupidly chose Negan and so, Jack broke up with me."

"Oh, so, no one else until Simon?"

She lightly shakes her head. "No, Negan's pretty time- consuming." She looks back to me with a raised brow. "Why? Are you seeing someone else?"

"Well..."

"Choose them," Lourdes swiftly advises, "Whoever they are, if it's between them and Negan; choose them."

I chuckle sorely, "It's not that easy."

We both get out of her car. "Why not?"

"...Because he's married, too."

"Oh," She makes a cringing face that expresses how screwed I am, "I see."

"You remember my friend, Dwight?" I inquire, as we walk up the steps to the school. "The one you met at the beach and at the festival."

Lourdes makes a short, quiet gasp. "What?"

"Yeah. Him."

"Jeez, Pippa," She takes a thoughtful sip of her coffee, "You really have a type."

"It's not like that," I argue with a small laugh, "It's not like I'm intentionally going after married men. And Dwight and I have history."

"Yeah..." She sighs, "So, what? Negan found out, or something?"

"Yep and he didn't exactly take it well. I mean, he said it didn't bother him, but I could tell he wasn't happy." What with that and because I behaved like an absolute jackass. "And he's kind of ignoring me now."

Lourdes snorts in disbelief. "What? You mean, he hasn't gotten over it, yet?"

"It would appear not."

"Shit, that's out of character," She replies, humored, "Negan's usually pretty good at shaking shit off."

"Well, I didn't necessarily inform him of my other paramour in the most mature and nice manner. And I might taken a few cheap shots. _And_ I might have almost gotten the cops called on us."

She laughs. "I wish I could've been a fly on that wall."

"Trust me, you don't." The bell rings, ending the lunch hour and our little chat.

I pick Jolyon up from Happy Hands later on in the afternoon and reluctantly decide that I should stay after school to finish my grading before the end of the semester. Before going back to my classroom, I take Jolyon to the restroom. The faculty bathroom is closed, because the janitor's cleaning it, so I decide to take him to the girl's bathroom a hallway away. There's an unmistakable sound coming from far down the hall, where the locker rooms and Negan's office is. But, I don't think Jolyon notices, because he's too humming "Frosty the Snowman" atonally.

I push open the door for him to go inside. "Mommy, I can go by myself."

"This is a public bathroom, baby," I tell him, "You'll be behind your own stall, I'm just-"

"I can do it by myself!" He whines.

"Fine," I give in, "Let me know when you need to wash your hands."

I'm forced to listen to Negan and Claire fucking down the hall. I had a bad feeling of it when I saw that she hadn't left for the day yet. It doesn't really bother to be honest. It's not like I haven't heard it before, or was unaware that Negan had other women. Unlike him, I'm not a hypocrite. For the most part, anyway.

"Mommy, I'm done." Jolyon echoes off the bathroom walls.

"Okay." I go in and lift him up, so he can wash his hands. Fortunately, he hasn't brought up any more sex questions from last night, nor did his teachers mention anything about it.

As we exit the bathroom, I hear Claire's raised voice shout something inaudible and then a loud _smack!_ Claire enters the hallway a few seconds later, flustered, and straightening up her blouse. I make out a heated "perverted asshole" under her breath, as she pulls her hair into a bun. She finally catches sight of us and stops.

"Oh, hi, Pippa," She looks down at Jolyon and her mortified look brightens, "Hello."

"Hi." Jolyon waves.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, trying not to sound like I am aware of where she came from.

"Yeah, I, uh," She fixes a strand of hair from her face, "I'm fine."

"Alright," I nod, "Have a nice night."

"Thanks, you too." Claire then walks away from us as quickly as she can without looking like it.

I turn my head down the hall. I just catch Negan's figure walking across from the locker rooms, towards the break room. "Jolyon?"

"What?"

"How about you and I go get a snack from the vending machine?"

"Can I get the gummy worms?"

"Sure, let's go."

The two of us walk into the break room, where Negan's leaning against one of the counters by the coffee machine. His solemn eyes move to mine as soon as we stroll in. I don't know what to say, so I just get into my purse to scavenge for a dollar and twenty-five cents.

"Hi!" Jolyon waves at him with excited enthusiasm.

Negan glances down at Jolyon and while his face is serious, he smiles. "Hey, kid."

"Mom's buying me gummy worms."

"No, she's not," Negan says, which causes me to look his way, "Because the machine's all out."

Both Jolyon and I look over at the machine, spotting an empty slot behind the glass. "Aw!"

"Just pick something else, babe." I tell him.

"But I wanted gummy worms."

"Well, you win some, you lose some," I feed the machine my change, "You'll just have to settle for something else."

Jolyon puts his hands to the glass as he peeks into the vending machine. "Um...what are those?"

"Gummy sharks."

Oh! I want those, please!" He points to them, before holding up his arms. "I can press the button!"

"C-3," I inform him as I pick him up, "Do you want me to get them from the bottom?"

"No, I can do that, too."

I put him down. "You can?" I watch him use one hand to hold the door open, while his other reaches down into what three months ago he would've thought was a dark abyss and pluck out his prize.

"See, Mom?" He holds up the pack of candy with a smile.

"Wow, you...you did it!" I put a smile on my face. "Good job. Here, I'll open them for you."

"I can do it." Jolyon objects, attempting to peel one side of the package open.

My eyes travel up to Negan and quickly away. I know I shouldn't be so sensitive over this, but it's really bugging me. After struggling a little Jolyon still can't open them, thank god. He needs my help. I lend a hand out for the package, but he turns to Negan, completely unaware.

"Can you open these, please?"

I look over at Negan, who's got a smug smile on his fucking face. He takes the bag and tears off the side without a problem. "There you go."

"Thank you." Jolyon says, accepting the bag back. He then reaches into the bag and produces a blue and white shark. "Here!"

"Thanks, baby." I accept his generosity. My eyes traipse across to Negan. "See ya."

"Wanna race back?" Jolyon asks me.

"Is there anything in your mouth?" I ask back. He opens his mouth to reveal that it's empty. "Okay. On your mark, get set...go!" Jolyon takes off out of the room and down the hall. I laugh as I leisurely follow.

"Boy, didn't that just chap your ass!" Negan chuckles behind me.

My smile lowers. "What are you talking about?"

"When he didn't want your help," He strolls just at my periphery, "Afraid your boy doesn't need his mommy anymore?"

"Because he asked you to open the bag?" I scoff, waving at Jolyon down the hall. "No."

"That's not what it fucking looked like to me."

"I think you're a little concussed after that slap you took from Claire," I retort.

He snickers. "Nah, I saw it pretty clear; your kid is cutting the apron strings."

"Why are you such an ass?" I take a gander his way with an inquiring brow. "Is it because I used you and hurt your feelings?"

Negan chuckles with chagrin, looking off for a second. "You didn't hurt my fucking feelings, honey. You almost got the fuckin' cops called on us, because you were being a cunt."

I stop dead in my tracks and when he does the same, I haul off and smack him. _Crack!_ "Don't you ever fucking call me that again!" He turns his head back over to my way with an unreadable, yet calm expression, as he adjusts his jaw. "Do you hear me?"

His eyes take on this smoldering ignition that makes my already furious breath almost desire to crash into his. A little smile tips up on his face. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well-" I hold fire at his unexpected words. "What?"

"I said," He steps closer to me, "I'm sorry for calling you a cunt."

My eyes stare intently at his. "Really?" I say with a hint of skepticism.

"Yeah," Negan sighs, glancing down the hall, "Maybe that was too far."

I can feel my breathing start to settle. "Okay," I follow his eyes to where Jolyon sits criss-cross outside my classroom, eating his snack, hopefully, oblivious, "Um, I should go home."

"Yep."

I look at him. "Are you still pissed off at me?"

"No," Negan shakes his head, "No, I stopped being mad before you got off my lap."

My brows furrow, perplexed. "Really?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I continue walking, slowly, due to some confusion. "You were so quiet the rest of the night...and then you left in the middle of the night."

"I didn't feel like staying," Negan replies casually, "I wanted to go home and sleep in my bed."

My gaze turns to him. "Oh."

For the first time, I think I begin to understand Negan more than I ever thought I would, or cared to. It's an odd knowledge, one that creates a boyish image in my head that I don't think anyone else; save Lucille perhaps, has had flow from abstract sight.

"What did you do that made Claire slap you?" I ask after a moment.

Negan snickers below his breath. "I asked her when she got so lousy at sucking dick."

I scoff, holding my elbows. "Very nice."

"Well, maybe it was a little harsh."

"Are you gonna apologize to her, too?"

"Nope," Negan answers rather quickly, "I think I'm getting a little tired of Claire."

"You've ran up the miles on her?" I ask with an effort to convey how I feel about that.

"No," He replies, "Just bored with her is all."

I nod, truly becoming aware of how we seem to appreciate each step down the hall. "Alright."

"Mommy," Jolyon puts out his flat palm, "Here. This one doesn't have a tail."

"Thank you." I smile warmly, bending over and letting him dump the tailless shark into my hand. "Ready to go home?"

"Okay." He stands up, chewing.

"Can you get me my keys from in the classroom, please?"

"Yeah!" He opens the door and enters.

"You're not gonna stay?"

I turn around and look up at Negan. "No, I thought I was going to, but I don't really feel like it now."

"Friday's the last day to get grades in." Negan informs me.

"I know. I'll get it done," A smirk inches up, "You want me to stick around?"

"I'm not gonna lie," He gives me a toothy grin, "I felt a little twitchin' down there when you hit me."

I huskily chuckle. "Don't take my breath away with such sweet nothings."

"Here!" Jolyon exits my classroom, holding up my classroom keys.

"Good job," I praise, before returning to Negan, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Not unless I'm dead." Negan grins, tucking his hands in his pockets.

I nod my head. "Maybe we could have lunch together."

"Can't, Lucille and I already got plans."

"Oh, well, then maybe later."

"Yeah."

I take Jolyon's hand and shift us both away. "See ya."

"See ya," Negan says with just the same ease, "Hey, are you going to the holiday party on Friday night?"

I look over my shoulder. "N-...I don't know, I haven't decided yet. Why?"

Negan shrugs, smiling, before he turns and walks away to his office.

* * *

 **CLTex: What when on between Dwight and Pippa, thirteen years ago, will eventually revealed sometime after the New Year, which for them is sooner than ours. And yes, Pippa did take things too far, but I feel that's how her and Negan stir together. If they aren't joking around, then they seem to try to out cruel one another...At least that's how Pippa treats it. And it would Pip's worst nightmare for Negan and Dwight to cross paths lol!**

 **StTudnoBright: Oh, Negan is definitely more jealous than he will ever admit! As for Pippa's growing attraction, I can't set in stone. Their relationship is sort of tumultuous, sort of cut from the same cloth, but she does definitely seem to have a lot less heartbreak (pretty much none) with Negan like she has with Dwight, so there is a possibility that Negan's more appealing (believe it or not) to be around. Even if she doesn't know it.**


	26. Chapter 26

"Look, Mom!" Jolyon says, pointing out the window from his car seat to our porch, as we pull into our driveway.

"What am I looking at?" I ask, while trying to figure out what exactly he's trying to show me.

"There's a box."

"Oh?" I get out of the car and as I walk around to grab Jolyon, I finally notice a package sitting on our doormat.

"What is it?" Jolyon inquires with curious excitement.

"It is..." I bend down to pick it up, reading the label, "From Texas." I see Jolyon's name as the addressee. "It's from Dad."

"It is?" Jolyon's little fingers brush against the box like it's a sacred artifact. "Is it for me?"

"Looks like it," I balance the box on my hip, so I can fiddle with the keys to get in the house.

"Can I open it?"

"Well, it's probably a Christmas present, Jol," I lightly nudge the cat from running out with my foot, "So, I think he'll want you to wait until then."

"Aw!" He slumps his shoulders in disappointment.

I carry the box into the kitchen and get a knife from the drawer. I slice the packing taping open, then lift the flaps back. Under foam peanuts, I can make out another box wrapped in red and green striped paper. Jolyon climbs up on a kitchen chair, sitting up on his knees, as he peers into the box. I smile at him as I pull the present out of the box.

"Wanna go put it under the tree?"

"Yeah!" He takes it from me and runs into the living room.

I have to admit that I'm impressed. Not only did the package arrive before Christmas instead of after, it was properly wrapped instead of just in the brown box amongst foam peanuts. Against my stubborn judgment, I get into my purse, get out my phone, and call him up. It rings until it goes to voicemail, but I can't be sure if it's because he missed the call, or ignored it.

"Um, hey," I start off awkwardly, "I was just calling to let you know that Jolyon got your package. I didn't let him open it yet, because I...I assume you wanted him to wait." My eyes glance in on Jolyon dangling Pip's fish toy in front of him. When I exhale it becomes a sigh. "Look, I know that you're probably still pissed after our last argument and I just want to say...I...I just feel like Jolyon's too young to travel by himself and...maybe we can work something out for spring break in April." I fish in my head for something else. "Alright, so um, I'm gonna let you go and don't forget to call Jolyon on Christmas, please. Bye."

I don't know why it's so hard to speak to him like I'd normally talk to people. I swear I'm incapable of being cordial, easy going, or steadfastly polite to him and, in truth, he doesn't even deserve it. It's just easy to tear him down and tower over him like a battle axe. Remember when I said I never had a properly functioning relationship?

"What do you think it is?" Jolyon comes into the kitchen.

"I don't know," I smile, "But whatever it is, I'm sure you're gonna love it."

"Me, too," He nods, matter of factly, "Dad's good a present picker."

I chuckle a little. "Yeah, he is."

 **...**

 _"What are you doing?" He huskily chuckles up at me._

 _I turn my head from the silver screen and look down at him below me. "Nothing."_

 _"You were watching the movie." He argues._

 _A small giggle is an admission of guilt. "It looks interesting."_

 _Dwight's hand rubs my arm. "Then let's watch it."_

 _"No," I keep him from sitting up, "This is the first time we've been allowed to go out since we egged Mrs. Truesdale's house."_

 _"So," He's able to move himself up while I'm still on top of him, "That doesn't mean we have to do this now. Plus, we made out under the bleachers yesterday."_

 _"I know, but," I lean down and kiss his lips, "Not being able to hang out with you after school has made me..."_

 _Dwight chuckles. "Made you what?"_

 _I look off as I suddenly become embarrassed and ashamed of what I've felt almost every time we're together, yet have never gratified it. I slowly back off of him. "Never mind, let's just watch the movie."_

 _D sits up and turns the radio up, so we can hear what's being said. We're quiet for a few moments as we watch the drama on the giant screen outside of the truck. "Do you want anything to drink?"_

 _I shake my head. "No, I'm okay."_

 _"How about something-"_

 _"No, thank you."_

 _He sighs and is quiet for a few more minutes, before he asks, "Are you upset, or something?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Well, then why are you acting weird?"_

 _"I'm not."_

 _"Yeah, you are," Dwight scoffs, "Just tell me."_

 _"I can't."_

 _"Why the hell not?"_

 _"Because, I don't want to."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"D," I look over at him, "I just can't, alright?"_

 _He exhales again, before opening the door. "I'm gonna get some popcorn."_

 _"I'll come with you."_

 _"That's okay." He shuts his car door._

 _I get out anyway and follow him. "Dwight, wait up." I slip my arm under his. "Don't be mad."_

 _"I'm not."_

 _"Are to." I apologetically put my head on his shoulder as we walk._

 _We make it up to the concession stand, where Dwight asks for popcorn and a medium soda. As we wait, I peruse the candy behind the counter. The lady comes back with a bag of popcorn and the soda._

 _"Um, and the chocolate-covered raisins," Dwight points, "Thanks." He hands them to me._

 _"I didn't ask for these." I tell him._

 _"No, but you had your eye on them."_

 _I smile as I accept them. "Thanks."_

 _The two of us walk back to the car. "Why can't you tell me?"_

 _I sigh, as I shake a few raisins for the hole on the box. "Because I'm afraid."_

 _He glances over with mild concern. "What do you mean?"_

 _I shrug. "I don't know, I just...I'm just afraid of how you'll react."_

 _"Oh," Dwight nods, still uncertain of what to make of that, "Well, whatever it is, you can tell me."_

 _"But what if-"_

 _"Unless you're breaking up with me," He peeks my way, "Are you?"_

 _"No," I chuckle, "Don't be ridiculous."_

 _"Well, then unless you're breaking up with me, I can't imagine what you have to say will be that bad, Pip."_

 _I get into the passenger's side of the car, while he gets in on the driver's side. "You really want me to say?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _I swallow a lump in my throat. "I, um...I've sort of been having some feelings lately that I..."_

 _"That you...?"_

 _"That I haven't been able to get over."_

 _Dwight fiddles with the straw in his soda. "Well, what sort of...feelings?"_

 _I turn down the volume of the movie neither of us is interested in at the moment. "It happens when we're kissing and sometimes when we're not kissing."_

 _"What happens?"_

 _I can feel a burning rise up in my face. "I get a feeling...down there."_

 _"Oh."_

 _"Yeah," I clear my throat, mortified, "We've never done anything besides make out and...you've touched my tits without a bra on...or shirt."_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"Dwight, I think...I think I want to go all the way."_

 _D looks over at me. "You mean have sex?"_

 _I wait a moment, before nodding my head. "Yes, I think so."_

 _"Oh."_

 _"But not if you don't want to," I quickly add, "I'm not even so sure I want to do it now, or tomorrow. I just...I love you and I think I'm ready to be with you. Like that, I mean."_

 _Dwight nods his head. "Okay."_

 _"Do you feel the same way, or...is this why I didn't want to tell you?"_

 _"No, I'm fine," His eyes meet mine, just as nervous and young, "Uh...I've thought about it before."_

 _"You have?" I curiously furrow my brows._

 _"Yeah, but..."_

 _"But?"_

 _He sighs heavily, almost ashamed. "I don't want to say, Pip. You'll think I'm an asshole."_

 _"No, I won't," I assure him, touching his arm, "Tell me."_

 _"Um, I think about you sometimes when we're not together and..."_

 _"And?" My eyes scan his face for answers or connection._

 _"...Well, I think about when we, um, we graduate and are together afterwards." His eyes look off as if he can see it now. "It's not like I mean to go there, but my mind just...kind of does that."_

 _"Picture our life together after high school?" I smile at him, touched._

 _"Yeah," Dwight snickers a little, "But it always goes to...being in the same bed and then what we might do there."_

 _"Really?" I chuckle, tucking some hair behind his ear, "I didn't peg you for a dreamer, D."_

 _He smiles at my joking, "Well, I sometimes think about it."_

 _"Why would I think you're an asshole for_ _that_ _?" I tilt back the box of chocolate raisin into my mouth, abruptly more relaxed._

 _Dwight's eyes look shyly at me. "Because I've had to...take care of it."_

 _"Oh," Now I'm back to being embarrassed, "You mean, you've..." I make a gesture with my hand, which makes him laugh._

 _"Yeah."_

 _My smile lessens, but not in a bad sense. "So, you've thought about us having sex and it turned you on?"_

 _He shrugs. "Sometimes."_

 _I nod. "Well, we don't have to wait that long."_

 _"I don't want to just do it to do it, Pippa," Dwight conveys, "I mean, I want to, but I don't want it to be like just some thing we did to pass the time. Like when we go down to the river."_

 _"Neither do I," I shake my head, "We can wait for the right moment."_

 _"How will we know when that is?"_

 _"I don't know, but we'll know."_

 _Dwight stares into my eyes, before nodding and then leaning over to kiss my lips. "Okay."_

 _"Okay." I scoot closer to him, as he turns up the volume. I lay my head on his shoulder, reaching over into his popcorn._

 **...**

"Pippa?" Mom calls me, as she's approaching my bedroom, "How much longer?"

"Fifteen minutes tops," I tell her, as I fix an earring to my left ear, "And what does it matter to you? I'm the one going out."

"Yeah, well, I have dinner waiting at home and I don't want it to get cold." Mom enters my room. "Jolyon showed me the present that his dad sent."

"Yeah, that was nice of him," I spritz some perfume on.

"Has he called back since you called Wednesday?"

"Nope."

"How late do you think you'll be?"

"It's an office party," I snort acridly, "I doubt I'll be painting the town into the wee hours of the morning. I'm not even sure there'll be alcohol there."

"That's probably a good thing." She utters.

I roll my eyes. "How do I look?"

Mom takes in my dark green, velvet dress, black tights, and maroon heels. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"I thought you didn't want to go this party?"

"I changed my mind."

"I'll say," She laughs, "I've never seen you so...done up."

"What's that suppose to mean?" I scoff, chuckling.

"I mean it's been awhile since I've seen you look like..." Her eyes grow glossy, "Like you're happy."

My humored smile diminishes. "I am happy."

"Well...I'm glad," Mom nods, peering at me like I'm some long lost ghost, "I hope you have a good night."

"Thanks," I give her an obligatory kiss on the cheek, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Pippa."

When I arrive at the school for the holiday party, I sit and wait in my car, freezing my ass off as I wait for Lourdes. She decided to come after all, so that's why I had to call my parents last minute to watch Jolyon. I know I can just go in on my own, but I'm honestly afraid to. Negan's coming, which means that his wife is going to be with him, which puts me on my nerves. I know, or at least as far as I know, Lucille doesn't know about him and I, but it still feels strange to have to be in the same room as her.

I see Lourdes' car pull into the lot and park in her spot. I get out of my car, trying to quell my mild shivering, as I walk over with a plate of cookies I brought. A door on each side opens and I'm astounded to see Simon getting out of the driver's side. I didn't think he'd come with her. A room full of teachers and education administrators doesn't seem like his sort of crowd. I will note that he does, however, look nice in his own way. Lourdes looks as gorgeous as she always does.

"Hi!" She waves at me.

"Hey," I smile, as I wave back, before looking over at Simon, "Hello."

"Hello," Simon grins, looking me over, "Well, don't you clean up nicely?"

"Simon!" Lourdes gives him a look.

"Thank you," I retort with a smile, turning to Lourdes, "You look lovely."

"Thank you," She smirks, humored, "Fingers crossed they got a strong punch."

"Fingers crossed."

The party's held in the cafeteria, since there's not enough staff members to host it in the gym. The place that's usually a disaster area of dropped pizza and condiments is spotless and decorated with a full swing of merry and bright streamers, balloons, and festive shapes that sparkle as they dangle from the garland. There's a food and beverage table that's half potluck dishes and half what the school was willing to provide. There's flutes of champagne and some type of warmed eggnog in a crock pot, but aside from that everything else is alcohol free. I guess it would be unpleasant to watch your fellow staff members uncouthly wobble, or fall off their heels, snockered with holiday liquor.

Holiday music plays from some unknown source as we all mingle in the warm glow of the dimmed lights. I smile through compliments on my flourless, triple chocolate cookies, while my eyes softly roam the room for the coach. The party started twenty minutes ago and he's usually a punctual person. The look on Lourdes' face tells me she's not too interested in whatever it is that one of the science teachers, Mr. Henley, is talking about. But still, she politely nods and makes a few "mhm"s and "right"s when necessary, while Simon just stares with his brows deeply furrowed in either confusion, or question as to why this guy is prattling on about such a boring topic. I'm surprised he hasn't interrupted by now to tell him so, or to make a wiseass remark.

"Pippa." Mr. Coolidge addresses me from behind.

"Hi, Avery," I kindly grin.

"You look very nice tonight," He smiles back.

"Thank you."

"Have you met my wife, Elaine?" He motions to her over by Diane.

"Yes, I did," I nod my head, "She's very nice."

He chuckles. "So, Diane tells me you played softball in school?"

"I did, yeah."

"Well, I know this doesn't seem like the time to discuss this, being a party and all, but I was wondering if you'd be interested in coaching this spring after the new year."

"Oh," I go to answer, when I hear the door open and in walks Negan and his wife.

He looks...dashing. I hate to say it and to say it like that, but I can't lie. The man looks dashing in his suit and tie; shoes polished and noticeable. I'd call it his Sunday best, if I thought he'd ever stepped foot in a church, or if he didn't look better than some pew sitter. I always heard that suits were to women what lingerie was to men, but up until now I didn't get it. God, he looks so...dashing.

And Lucille; she's beautiful. Her dark, almost raven black hair is pinned up in a French twist and she looks so elegant in her black turtleneck, tucked into a purplish red skirt with black tights and matching stilettos. The way she greets people looks both warm and political, as she firmly shakes their hands with a mauve, friendly smile.

"So, what do you think?" The principal brings me back to focus.

"Um..."

"About coaching softball?" Avery inquires, "If you want, it could be JV, or varsity...or both."

"I thought the gym teachers coached the teams." I reply, trying not trail my eyes back to Negan.

"Well, Negan coaches them all, while the others sort of hang back," He sighs, "But any teacher can coach. So, how about it?"

"I will definitely think about." I smile.

"Good," He nods with a grin, "I look forward to your answer." He then walks off to visit with other people.

"Wipe the drool from your chin," Lourdes says as she walks past me, followed by Simon, "His wife is here."

My gaze goes with them, until I oddly trail behind to the refreshment table. "I'm not drooling."

"You looked like a zombie, Pip," She chuckles as she fixes a plate.

"Shut up."

"Relax, I doubt Lucille even knows anything."

I look over from the two of them across the room. "You think?"

"Sure," Lourdes nods her head, "I mean, she knows, but she doesn't know who."

"She doesn't like you," I retort, putting some food on a paper plate, "That's what he told me, so I just assu-"

"Well, she knew about him and I, because I..." She takes a glance at Simon, "I called him once and she answered the phone."

Simon snickers. "That must have been quite the embarrassment."

"Cállate." She sneers. "I guess when she questioned him, he told her who it was on the other end. Bastard."

I try not to snicker alongside Simon. "That's when you stopped the affair."

Lourdes takes another look at Simon. "Two months later, when I met Simon."

I know she's lying about when she completely ended things, but I'm obviously not going to say so in front of Simon. "Oh."

Lourdes appears to stiffen and when I follow her eyes, I tense up as well. Simon's probably the only one out of three that isn't at all nervous at Negan and Lucille approaching. As much as I'm holding my breath, I still maintain a nonchalant, cool countenance as Negan makes eye contact with a smile.

"Well, hello," His teeth brighten his face, "Don't you look nice for once." Lucille gasps at his words, angry, as she smacks his shoulder with the back of her hand.

I scoff, giving a smart smile. "I scrubbed behind my ears."

"It shows," He chuckles, "You remember my wife, Lucille." He goes to put a hand on the small of her back, but she steps forward, so he just misses.

"Nice to see you again," She smiles kindly, "How's your son?"

"He's good," I answer, cordially shaking her hand, "Thank you for asking."

"Is he with his father tonight?"

"Um," I politely smile, "No, he's with my parents."

Negan leans over to murmur, "His father's a dead beat," rather loudly, which I know was intentional.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lucille says, slightly embarrassed.

"No worries."

Lucille smiles, gaining her confidence again, before turning to Lourdes. "Hello, Lourdes."

"Lucille," Lourdes gives her the same professional smile that she's giving Lourdes, "You look nice."

"Thank you," She returns to my face with a better smile, "You look very pretty, Ms..."

"Barnes." Negan says, snickering in my direction.

"Barnes." Lucille grins, evidently irked that she didn't remember my name, or that her husband's laughing.

"Thank you," I awkwardly accept the compliment, "So, do you and please, call me Pippa."

"Alright, Pippa." Lucille looks at Simon. "Hello, I'm Lucille," She puts her hand out.

"Simon," He greets back, shaking her hand, before looking over at Negan, "Pleasure to meet you."

Lourdes turns her head towards him, remembering her manners. "Simon's my boyfriend."

"Well, it's good to fuckin' know that you're not imaginary," Negan taunts, as he reaches over to exchange hands with Simon, "I'm Negan."

"Simon," Simon takes his hand, unfazed by the foreknowledge of whom this guy was to Lourdes, "Nice to finally meet you."

Lucille glances over toward the principal. "I'm gonna go talk to Avery for a bit," She says, before turning towards me, "Excuse me." She walks off without waiting for a response from her husband.

Negan watches her go, then sets his eyes back on mine. "Where's your plus one, Ms. Barnes?"

I shoot him glare. "I didn't invite him." I move to go get some eggnog.

"Afraid he wouldn't measure up?" Negan follows, continuing to tease me.

"Oh, trust me," I look at him, as I ladle some of the stuff into a cup, "He measures up."

"Oh, does he?" He chuckles in skepticism.

"Surpasses a few I know."

Negan watches the eggnog fill my cup. "Think that's a bright idea?"

"I have to drive myself home," I inform him with a huff, "So, relax, I'm not getting lit."

 **...**

I never realized just how little I knew about my other coworkers until I've had to actually talk to them. I guess I'm either getting lunch with Lourdes, or having Negan for lunch, so I never swam too far from the shallows. Now, I definitely know everyone and their partner. But, avoiding Negan didn't promise to be a fun task. I just think that it'd be pretty slimy to go about each other in our usual form with his wife present.

Speaking of Lucille, you can totally tell she's a politician. I don't mean that in the sense that she keeps a professional, somewhat insincere air of cordiality. I mean that she knows how to work a room, talking to others with a genuine smile and handshake. She's independent and doesn't even notice that Negan's not by her side; possibly doesn't even mind. I've noticed they come to a meet every now and then and I can make out the chemistry between them. The way Negan smiles in a way that's subtle and yet I've never seen him smile that way for anyone. And how she touches his forearm when she talks to him, or just because.

However, I also see how she just goes off to mingle without him when it seems like he wouldn't mind lingering a little while longer. Once, he went to kiss her cheek and she walked off to talk to Diane, unaware of what she just missed. I don't think she needs him as much as he wants her to.

"Pippa," Simon strolls up to me, "Wanna dance?"

I knit my brows, slightly confused. "Where's Lourdes?"

"Her feet hurt," He replies, nodding to her sitting down in a chair, peeling her heels off, "So, do you?"

"Okay," I take his hand and follow him to the dance floor, aka the middle of the cafeteria, "But just one dance."

"Just one?" Simon chuckles, "I get the sense I'm not your favorite person." A slow, crooning Christmas song begins to play.

"Good sense," I stiffen a little when his hand touches my back, while I place my hand on his bicep, "I saw you talking to the coach a little while ago."

"He seems like a nice enough guy."

"Nice? Like you?" I snicker.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I don't think a couple of nice guys having a conversation is why your girl's been pounding back the champagne."

"She ain't a lightweight," He looks over at her, "But just in case, I drove _her_ car."

"Yeah, that and yours isn't allowed on school grounds, because people heard you and her screwing."

"I had a hankering and she was close by."

I roll my eyes, "You know they use to-"

"Yes, I'm aware," Simon nods.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it?" He conveys blasé confusion, "It's over. Lour's a steady gal and I'm good to her."

"You trust her." I realize.

"After what she's told me, I don't think I have to worry about her stepping out on me."

I arch my brow. "What do you mean?"

Simon grins. "I keep her well sat-"

"No, I mean what do you mean after what she told you?" My eyes can't help but to find her and then catch sight of Negan not too far away. "What did she tell you?"

He casually shrugs his shoulders. "About their relationship."

"It wasn't a relationship," I interject, "They were just fooling around."

Simon raises his brows into his forehead. "Really? Because that's not what she told me."

"What'd she say?"

"According to Lourdes," He repositions himself, so our bodies are closer, "It was a little more than a schoolyard flirtation."

"It was?" My brows furrow.

"Yep," Simon nods, "In fact, it was a full blown affair between the two."

I study his face to see if he's lying, but I don't Simon well enough to know. "What does that mean?"

"It means that they were 'fooling around' not long after Lour started working here. She said that things got pretty serious after a while."

"She did?" I don't why I'm replying with pathetic, stupid inquiries, but I'm just so surprised.

He nods his head. "Yeah, and at one point, he may have expressed that he had stronger feelings for her and-"

"He said he loved her?"

"Not those exact words," Simon turns us, as we still sway to the next song, "But in a way, sure. She even said he might have rolled around the idea of leaving his wife."

"You're lying," I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief, "He would never say that shit, or leave his wife."

"Why? Because he hasn't said it to you?" Simon cocks a brow. When I look back at him in shock that he knows, he chuckles, "Communication is vital for a relationship. Lourdes told me."

"Bitch," I mutter under my breath, "So, he, Negan, was going to leave his wife for Lourdes?"

"I don't know if anything was set in stone, but I do know that his wife find out and threatened to leave him, so he begged her not to and Lourdes broke things off after a few more months. Shit kind of turned sour. I guess he added a few more coworkers to his roster. May have done some pretty petty things. _Cruel_ as Lourdes put it, but then again, she's got a flare for the dramatic."

The next song begins with a more upbeat tempo, so I pull away from him. A heaviness in my shoulders weighs me down, as I sigh.

"Do you wanna step outside?" Simon suggests. "I got a flask."

"Yeah."

Lourdes asks where we're going and when Simon informs, she nods but doesn't follow. We go to the front and stand on the other side of the stairs. It's like hell frozen over out here, but I don't mind. Simon produces a flask from his coat.

"Ladies first," He says, "Catch."

He tosses it to me. I twist the top off and hit it back. It's a nasty, strong peppermint schnapps. "Thanks."

"Cigarette?" Simon offers, as he lights one up for himself.

"Sure." I take the one he gives me, then cup my hand near the flame he extends my way. "So, I hear you might be going someplace for Christmas."

"Might be," He exhales smoke, "Lour's family aren't really speaking to her and she's all on edge about it."

"Will you go to your family's for the holidays?"

Simon chuckles acridly. "I don't have family."

"So, then a vacation?"

"She likes to go away." He aimlessly replies, blowing smoke. It's weird to here him say that. Like he cares for her. "Easy of the hooch, darlin'."

I hand him the flask. I fill my lungs with smoke and exhale, "What did Lourdes say about me and Negan?"

"That she saw he was calling you that night you and your boy came over, "He looks over at me, "She knew what it meant."

I sigh smoke from my nose, as I flick the cigarette. "Thanks for the booze," I walk past him, "I'm gonna go inside."

I drudge up the steps, miserable. As I go for the handle, the door opens and Lara and her husband laugh with each other as they exit. I let them pass, smiling when they look at me.

"Bye, Pippa," Lara waves, "Happy holidays!"

"Bye, see you next year." I wave back, before going in. When I make it back to the party, I get some more eggnog and sit down in a hard chair. I peer into the cup, contemplating getting the hell out of here. A pair of shoes comes into sight.

"Thought you said you weren't gonna get fuckin' lit?"

"I'm not drunk," I murmur, "This is my third cup and I fuckin' nursed the other two. I'm buzzed if anything."

"How ya gonna get home?" Negan sits beside me.

"My car."

"Really?" He scoffs, "You're dumb as shit, sometimes, I fuckin' swear."

"I'm fine to drive," I claim, "And I have to get home."

"So, call a fucking cab."

"That's too expensive."

"Christ," Negan shakes his head.

"I don't know why I came."

"Because you knew I was coming." He chuckles.

I sigh, "I should've stayed home with Jolyon."

"Don't be such a wet blanket," Negan nudges my knee with his, "Wanna go to my office?'

"No," I instantly reply, "Your wife's here."

"Ah, she's busy socializing. Besides, it puts a little fun element of danger, doesn't it?"

"Actually, I think it's disrespectful." I scoff.

"Suit yourself, you moody asshole."

"She's beautiful." I note, seeing her smiling at something somebody said.

"Yeah, she is," Negan says without any hint of humor or irony, "So, are you."

I look his way. "Thanks."

He smiles, chuckling. "I meant it."

I snicker bleakly. "Thank you."

Negan leans a little my way. "I'd love to see those stockings down at your ankles."

"I bet you would."

"C'mon, beautiful," He huskily suggests, "Let's sneak off."

I exhale again, before I stand up. "Fine, but let's make it quick."

"Atta girl."

 **...**

"Well, merry fuckin' Christmas." Negan chuckles as he puts himself back in his pants, panting.

"Merry Christmas." I dryly say.

There's a small run in my stockings, but I maneuver them up to conceal it under my dress. I thought screwing him in the copy room would make me feel better, but I'm not surprised to find that it didn't, as I reassemble myself. I sit on the copy machine as I sullenly watch Negan fix his suit that suddenly lost it's 'dashing' appeal. I can't believe we did this. I can't believe _I_ did this after telling him I thought it was wrong twenty minutes ago.

What's more, I can't believe he was able to with his wife being in the same fucking building. That he would even dare. He agreed that she was beautiful. He tried to kiss her cheek and missed. He tried to touch the small of her back, but she inclined forward to shake my hand. And she exists well without having him by her side. She doesn't need him and he knows it.

"What's with the pout?" He laughs, "I just stuck my yuletide log in your fireplace. You should be fuckin' jolly."

"I'm not pouting."

He leans down and kisses my lips. "Cheer the fuck up, Pippa. Was it that bad?"

"No, you know how to stuff a stocking," I lightly smile, as he laughs, "But..."

"But?"

I shake off Simon's words and get off the machine. "I'm just tired. It's late."

"Let me call you a cab."

"I told you, it's-"

"It's a hell of lot better than smashing your car into a tree and having your kid getting a dead parent for Christmas," He moves some stray curls from my faces, "Let me help the kid out, if not you."

"Okay." I nod.

I wait by the front doors of the school, waiting for the taxi Negan called for me. I honestly don't feel I need one, but I'm exhausted and so I didn't fight him. It didn't say goodbye to Lourdes, or anyone else. I didn't feel like it. The yellow car rolls up about fifteen minutes afterwards. I go out and right as I get to the car, I realize I left my purse inside.

"I'll just be a minute." I tell the driver.

I make it back to the cafeteria, where my purse is. There's quite a few people still left, even though it's almost eleven. As I take up my purse from under a chair, I see Negan and Lucille, slow dancing to a soft song. Pressed together and tenderly swaying left to right.

I go back to the front to find little flakes of snow falling on the everything in sight. Jolyon will get a kick out of this in the morning. It'll be his first snow. I get into the cab with a slightly runny nose and welling eyes.

"Where to?" The driver asks from his rearview mirror.

"340 Sloane Way," I sniff, "Camden."

"You alright?"

"Fine, thanks." I turn my head to look out the window to indicate that don't feel like talking much.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's semi-melancholy chapter. Thanks for all the support!**

 **CLTex: How long Jolyon can keep their secret is totally up in the air. You're right, three years olds aren't that great keeping things on the down low lol!**

 **StTudnoBright: Pip definitely has a lot to worry about with Jolyon knowing that she and Dwight are "hugging". And you're bad vibes about the holiday party may be accurate.**

 **Our (Savior) boys are back this Sunday! I'm so stoked!**


	27. Chapter 27

"He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore," I recite from the book, "Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before." The corners of my mouth tip up at the genuine curiosity Jolyon's eyes express to find out the conclusion. "Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps...means a little bit more!"

"And he gives the presents back!" Jolyon blurts out, "And- and he eats the roast beast!"

I playfully gasp. "How did you know?"

"I watched it after breakfast on the T.V."

"You did?"

"Mhm," He nods. It must have been when I was in the shower.

I spider crawl my fingers up his belly, which makes him smile. "You little cheater!" I tickle him and he wildly cackles, wiggling and kicking his feet.

"I can't breathe!" Jolyon laughs.

I kiss his cheek. "You want to open your Christmas Eve jammies?"

"Yeah!" Jolyon leaps off my bed and runs out of my room. I laugh, following him. Every Christmas eve, I let him open one gift before bed, which is always just a new pair of pajamas to where. "Which one, Mom?"

"That one." I point to the poorly wrapped bundle. I suck at wrapping presents, Jolyon could have done a better job.

"Cool!" Jolyon holds up a pair of onesie pajamas that have little sharks with Santa hats on them. Don't ask me how I was able to find sharks wearing Santa hats on kid's pajamas, I just was, alright?

"Go put 'em on, so you can go to bed and so Santa will come."

"We have to leave out the milk and cookies." He pads off to his room with his jammies in hand.

"I know, I know," I chuckle, strolling into the kitchen, "I didn't forget."

I fish around the cupboards for the one Christmas glass we have and then go for the milk in the fridge. Lights from a big truck glow from my front kitchen window, drawing my attention. When I peer outside, I see that it looks like a mail truck. I didn't think they worked on Christmas Eve. I curiously watch the burly man get out of the truck with what looks like a packaging envelope. I'm surprised to see him start for my house, figuring he was probably going to the neighbor's, because I wasn't expecting anything.

I meet him at the door, before he can knock, or ring the bell. "Hi?"

"Hey, what's up?" The jolly giant beams in his Santa hat, "Are you...Pippa Barnes of 134 Sloane Way?"

"That I am." I retort.

"Awesome," He hands me the envelope, "This is my last stop for the night."

"Uh, thanks," I take the envelope, "Sorry you have to work tonight."

"Ah, don't sweat it, dude," The guy smiles, "I don't mind. Have a happy holidays."

"Thanks..." I peer over at the stitched in name tag, "Jerry."

He nods with a friendly smile, waving as he's about to turn around and leave. "Happy holidays, little dude."

"Wha-?" I shift to see Jolyon peering out behind me. I close the door and turn the package over to read the sender's address. It's a truck stop post office.

"Mommy, was that Santa?"

"No, that was not Santa," I laugh, "Why would you think that?"

"You said Santa was big and had a beard and was very nice."

"That was the mailman, Jol," I rip open the envelope, "And Santa's not coming until after you go to bed."

"I'll put the cookies by the tree!" Jolyon runs into the kitchen.

"Careful not to spill the milk." I find a pair of plaid oven mitts and a piece of notepaper folded in half. I flip it open and read it in my head.

 _"Since you're too stubborn to go out and buy them, I bought you these, so you won't get burned. Merry Christmas,"_ The note is signed by D, followed by, " _P.S. There's something in one of the mitts. I found it in a box in the garage when I was getting out the Christmas lights. I think you should have it back. I love you."_

The "I love you" looks hastily written at the bottom. Like it was a last minute thought. I set the envelope and note down on the kitchen table, after wandering in there when I was reading. Curious, I peek inside both of the oven mitts, until I notice the thing Dwight mentioned at the bottom of the left mitt. I reach down inside and the moment my fingers grasp around it; I know exactly what it is.

I pull the little wooden figurine out, tossing the oven mitt aside. It's the statue of me he carved out of wooden when we were seventeen. Dwight always had a knack for whittling and carving. His grandpa taught him how when he was a kid. It almost looks the same as it had thirteen years ago, except he's painted it. A smile forms on my face as I study the beautiful detail he put into both the figure and the paint.

I remember him saying he made it from some firewood in the back of his mom's house. I also remember the wood being lighter than my skin, but know he's used a soft, cafe brown to make it match me. My hair was shorter then, but the curls have the appearance of texture and I still see myself in those blue shorts, checkered flat top sneakers, and old Lorelei's t-shirt. I don't know how he did it, but he also managed to capture that light that use to live on my face, even if I'm not smiling and my eyes appear content.

Dwight gave this to me for Christmas that year. I had known that he was carving it, but I was still so astounded by the finished result that my heart swelled and I cried. I think I got him a pocketknife, or something that I felt didn't quite measure up, but I remember him telling me he liked it. I use to think I was the shit for having such a cool, thoughtful boyfriend who could make such a beautiful thing. After we broke up, I couldn't bear to keep it, to look at this little being that reminded me of the great loss between the two of us and so I gave to Caroline to give back to him one afternoon. At first I was glad that he hadn't been home, but I distinctly recall crying on the way home that I wasn't able to give it back to him personally.

I hold the statue up to my nose to see if I can still smell the wood. It's still there under the scent of paint. The sound of glass breaking breaks my concentration. I see Jolyon standing by the coffee table, looking down.

"What happened?" I ask from the kitchen. Jolyon glances up at me and responds by crying. I put the figure down on the table and hurry in. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?"

I inspect him, but quickly assess that he's physically alright. A pool of milk rests on the floor along with the Christmas glass broken into three big pieces. Pip's crouched on the floor with his tongue darting in and out as he laps up the spilled milk.

"Baby, why are you crying?" I ask Jolyon.

"Pip pushed the glass down and broke it!" He points down at the crime scene.

"Okay," I wipe some tears away with my thumbs, "It's not a big deal, we'll just clean it up and get another glass, yeah?"

"But that's our only Christmas glass!" Jolyon sobs, "Santa has to have that one!"

"I don't think it matters, baby." I take his hand and walk him over to the couch, before I go into the kitchen.

"How do you know?"

"Because I just do." Because I'm fucking Santa Claus and I don't care what I drink from. I hate the taste of milk anyway, so I only ever force down two sips to make it look like "Santa" came. Jolyon calms down as I clean up the mess and bring a new glass of milk. "You ready for bed?" He nods his head, running his hand under his wet nose. "Alright, let's go to my room."

"Can you read just one more story?" Jolyon sniffs.

"Sure, but pick a short one, because you need to go to bed." When the cat leaps up on the table to get into the new milk, I scoop him up and carry him to my bedroom.

After Jolyon's passed out, I creep back out to play Santa. And when I set out the gifts and eat two of the cookies, leaving the third with a bite, and choke down the small bit of milk, I go back into the kitchen. I take up the little me again and marvel at it once more, smiling.

 **...**

I am so fucking tired. I couldn't sleep last night after I went to bed and Jolyon woke me up at six on the dot this morning, shaking my arm to get me up to go open presents. He's pretty stoked about everything he got and if I do say so myself, I am impressed with myself for doing such a good job this year. I did everything online, so I wouldn't have to mad dash it to the stores last minute and hope that they have at least one thing Jol asked for. Like I had done for his first Christmas and pretty much last year, too. I do a little better each year. I think just getting to open presents is the best part for him.

"Here, Mom!" Jolyon hands me a little gift that I know my mom had to have wrapped for him.

"Oh, wow," I yawn, accepting the gift, "Did you make me another paper chain?"

"No!"

"Another beautiful drawing?"

He excitedly treads through the sea of discarded wrapping paper to climb up on the couch with me. "Open it."

I laugh, "Give me a chance, you punk."

I rip off the silver paper and pluck off the top of the box. "Oh, wow," I say more seriously. It's a necklace that has six vertical bars hanging in the middle.

"Look, Mom," Jolyon turns the bars upside down, revealing his name spelled out at the bottom, which you wouldn't be able to tell otherwise, "Gran said that's my name!"

"It is," I'm so touched, I'm getting little misty-eyed, "It's beautiful, Jolyon."

"You like it?"

"I love it," I kiss his cheek, "Thank you, baby."

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," I hug him, kissing his cheek again, "You got one left, hon."

Jolyon looks over at the tree. "Dad's gift?"

"Mhm," I nod, "Go ahead and get it and then you can go through your stocking."

As Jolyon goes over to get the gift, I look over at the clock and feel myself growing a little irritable. Texas is like three hours ahead of us, so what the hell's taking him so long to call? I know he got the message, where I asked him to call Jolyon today, and even if he didn't, you'd think he would anyway.

"Wow!" Jolyon gasps.

"What is it?" I peer over.

"Look!" Jolyon brings over a big book with a few types of sharks on the cover.

"Oh, that's cool," I read the cover, "It's a science book about sharks." I open it and see his "to Jolyon, from Dad" on the first page, along with a red envelope. "Looks like you got a card. Wanna open it?"

"Yeah!" He takes it and peels off the top. "What is it?"

I take the two pieces of paper from him. "They're two tickets to the...aquarium in D.C."

"That's where sharks live, huh?"

"They might have a few."

"That's so awesome!" Jolyon grabs the tickets from me. "Can we go?"

"Well, not right now, but maybe next weekend."

"Yay!"

"Alright, let's get your stocking and then-"

"Cinnamon rolls!"

I toss all the wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows in a garbage bag, as Jolyon goes through his stocking stuffers. "How did dad know you liked sharks?"

"I told him so when he called."

"Oh."

"Can I eat these now?" Jolyon holds up the little netted gold coins.

"If you promise to keep it a secret from Gran, you can have two."

"Okay!"

As I'm fixing breakfast, my cell phone rings in the living room. "Shit," my hands are sticky, "Jol, can you bring me my phone, please?"

"Hello, happy holidays!" I hear Jolyon answer my call. "Hi!"

My flip on the sink to wash my hands. "Jolyon!"

"I did, I like it!" Jolyon says to whomever's on the other end. "Mommy said we can go! Thank you!"

I walk into the living room and see him sitting on the rug with Pip moseying around him. "Jolyon, who's on the phone, baby?"

"Dad," He answers. His eyes move as he listens to whatever's being said. "Do you want to talk to Mom?" I fold my arms, waiting for the response. "Okay, merry Christmas. Talk to you later!" He hands me the phone.

I put it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"...Season's greetings."

"Uh, yeah, you, too," I watch Jolyon in the room with all his presents, "Jolyon is really excited about your gift. It was really thoughtful, thank you."

"Those tickets do have a date of expiration, so keep vigilant heed to insure that he gets to attend the aquarium before then."

I sigh, "Thanks, I'll make sure we go."

"Good to hear," He curtly replies, "I will, however, believe it when I see it."

"I'm a single parent, Eugene, I sometimes lose track of things, alright?" I scoff, "And, to be fair, you could've taken him on the weekends you had him."

"I had intended to, but as you may recall, you misplaced them and I cannot help to think you intentionally lost those planetarium tickets as some type of sabotage."

"I did not!" I turn away when Jolyon looks at me, now feeling guilty. "I did not intentionally lose those tickets. You know how I sometimes...lose things."

"A tendency to drink one's weight in alcohol on the regular would inspire that, I imagine."

"You know what?" I put my hand to my forehead and exhale, remembering to keep my voice down, "Let's not do this now. I'm...doing better, I'm not...drinking as much and I promise that Jolyon will get to see the aquarium."

He's quiet for a few moments. "I have considered your proposal on the matter of letting Jolyon come this way in April and I will take you up on that offer."

"Oh, okay," I didn't necessarily say that that was a sure thing, but whatever, "Um, I guess we'll discuss it later."

"Yes, we will," Eugene agrees, "Well, I better go."

"Will you be alone again?"

"Seasons greetings, Pippa." The phone on the other ends clicks.

 **...**

Christmas at my parent's house is about the same as it is during Thanksgiving. I tried my best not to drink too much, but after being asked about my love life, Jolyon's father, the situation surrounding Jolyon's father, and having to hear about how great everyone else is doing, all while trying to dodge judgmental looks from around the room; I failed. It's funny how people always act like they're so perfect when they know there's someone who can't hide the fact that they aren't in the room. Family, no less. I can't believe I never realized how scrutinizing my own aunts, uncles, cousins, etc could be, until after my tragedy when I was eighteen.

I lean against the kitchen counter, trying to keep myself steady. Jolyon runs into the room with Audrey's kids, but doesn't leave right away. "Gran, look!" He points up to me. "Mommy liked her necklace."

"I'm so happy to hear that!" Mom gleefully smiles at him, and then looks at me, mildly concerned.

"It's perfect," I touch the bars of the necklace, deflecting her stare. "I love it."

"I know you're not a diamond, or gemstone sort of girl," Mom replies, peeking into the oven to check on the turkey, "So, I figured it'd be something you'd like."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," She takes the glass from where I'm standing as she passes, "It's from Jolyon."

"Thank you, Jolyon." I run a hand over his head. I look out at all the relatives out back, playing football.

Dad walks in from the living room, putting on his winter coat. "How long 'til supper?"

"A hour, or so." Mom smiles as my dad pecks her on the lips, before he slides open the glass door and goes out.

"Gran?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Do you and Pop have sex?"

"Jol!" I look down at him in utter mortification. Audrey, who's just returned from the bathroom, stifles a laugh.

"But you and-"

"Why don't you go outside and try to build a snowman, huh?" I sort of nudge him forward and he goes. As soon as he's outside with the others, Audrey busts up laughing.

"Oh, my god!" She covers her mouth.

"Shut up!" I sneer, before looking to Mom. "His school friend told him about 'sex' and...I'm so sorry."

"Well, at least he didn't ask in front of a packed house," She cackles.

"Stop laughing!" I shout at Audrey. "It's not funny."

"Of course, it's funny!"

I start to leave the room, when it begins to spin. "Shit."

"Jesus," Audrey takes my arm, "Let's get you upstairs."

"You better not put me in a cold shower."

Twenty minutes later, after Audrey's laid me in bed, she brings me some fresh coffee and a muffin leftover from breakfast this morning. "Dinner's in forty minutes, so sober up."

"Maybe I'll just skip it," I groan, "Eat whatever's left over."

"There's like thirty people, honey," Audrey pats my quilt covered thigh, "There's not gonna be much left over."

"I'll scrape something up."

"Pippa," She sighs, disappointed, "Is this how you're always gonna spend the holidays? Drunk and passed out, while your kid is downstairs, telling everyone that you're not 'feeling well'?"

I open my eyes and stare at her with heavy eyes, because I know she's right. "I've just had a really hard go of things, Audrey."

"You've actually had a pretty good life, Pip."

"Not since May fourth, 2001," I retort bitterly, "Not since I lost everything and it all went dark."

She looks at me, sympathetically. "I know that was hard, Pippa, but you have move on."

"Easier said than done."

"What about Jolyon?" She asks, frustrated, "Doesn't everything in the past seem so insignificant now that you have him?"

My eyes grow dark. "Don't you ever say that it was insignificant. You don't know what that's like, so don't you dare tell me to let it go."

"It happens to a lot of people, Pippa," Audrey firmly retorts, "They get through it and learn to deal with it in a positive way."

I look out the window. "My life is better with Jolyon, but I'm not ready to let _that_ go. Especially not now."

"Why not now?" She furrows her brows. "What's going on?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You know Dwight?"

"Of course, why? What about him?"

"...We've been sleeping together for the last few months."

Audrey's brows deepen. "What?"

"It just happened," My eyes start to water, "I didn't mean for it to...but we are and it's harder than I thought."

"He's married, Pippa," She stands up from the bed, "That's why it's hard. You and him are doing a bad thing!"

"Keep your voice down," I hoarsely snap, "I don't want Mom and Dad to know."

"Yeah, I can't imagine why!" She begins to slowly pace. "How the fuck could you do this?"

"I told you, it was an accident."

"An accident!" She sharply whispers. "You don't accidentally sleep with a married man, Pippa!"

I sob silently on my bed. "I mean I never intended for it to happen."

"But you wanted it to happen?"

"...I don't know," I honestly answer, "I thought I would and when we're together...I feel like myself again. I feel like he's lighting the fire I lost, but afterwards...I feel so extinguished."

"Because you can't go back to the person you were before!" Audrey rubs her temples. "You and Dwight are not kids anymore, Pippa. That's gone. You're adults and what you do has consequences! He has a wife!"

"I know that and I don't want her to get hurt!"

"Then stop this," She sternly demands, "Stop seeing Dwight."

I glance at her with miserable eyes. "I can't."

Audrey scoffs, "Can't, or won't?"

"...I don't want to lose him again."

"You've already lost, honey," She sits down on the bed next to me, "He got married right after you left for Texas. He and Sherry have been together ever since and it doesn't look they're unhappy."

"You don't know what they're like alone..." I respond, instantly ashamed of myself for trying to pretend like this is okay, "I mean, why would he-"

"Why would he sleep with you?" Audrey raises her brows, "Because you were there and willing."

"Get out," I growl, turning my back to her, "Get the fuck out of my room."

"I'm not trying to be harsh here, but Pip, he's not going to leave her and you can't live happily ever after in the outskirts someone's marriage."

My face scrunches and I cry even harder. "I know!"

Her hand soothingly rubs my back. "You need to end it."

"It's not just Dwight."

"What?"

I sniff, "You remember that gym teacher?"

"The married one?"

I nod my head. "I've been sleeping him, too."

"Jesus Christ!" Audrey curses under her breath, removing her hand from my back.

"We've been sneaking around for longer than Dwight and I," I continue, tears pouring from my face, "I use him to cope with that extinguished feeling."

"Oh, my god," She sighs, "I can't believe this. I can't..." She stands up again and goes to the door, "All I'm gonna say is that you are better than this, what you and those men are doing is wrong, and you need to end things. And sober up."

"I know," I call after her as she closes the door, "I know."

 **...**

The man on the other side of the bar keeps looking my way every couple seconds. He looks familiar but I can't peg where from. He's handsome; I'll give him that. I glance at him once and turn away with a subtle, cool inclination of my nose, smiling ever so slightly into my martini glass. After half an hour, the man grows the balls to casually stride up to the bar, as if he's perusing the liquor behind the bartender instead of my shape as it is on the barstool.

"Hey," He speaks.

"Hello," I say without looking at him, "Is it warm over there?"

"Sorry?"

I chuckle down at my glass. "I was just wondering if it was warm over there, because I couldn't decide if you weren't coming over because you were too scared, or because you didn't want to leave that table by the heating vent." I look him in the eye with a smile. "Its hell froze over here."

"Is that because your seats by the door, or because you're sittin' here?"

"I've been told the room drops ten degrees when I enter a room," I snicker back, "You look familiar."

"I work at the Christmas tree farm up in Knowleswood."

"Oh," I point to him, "You cut my tree down."

"Yeah, that's right," He puts his hand out, "Yancy."

"Pippa."

"Fancy runnin' into you here."

"What brings you all the way to this bar?"

"Better booze and it looks like better women."

I snort at his attempt. "Real cute."

"Can I buy you a drink?" Yancy smiles into his dimples.

"I've got one."

"Got one gone," He retorts, "It's at the bottom."

"I don't let guys buy me drinks, Yancy."

Yancy looks at the glass of amber liquor he carried over here. "I guess that'd be pretty stupid, huh?"

I look him over. "Yeah...but I guess, if you really wanted to, you could. It's not like you'd be anywhere near it."

"Shit, you make me feel like some type of asshole."

"It's just a safety precaution."

Yancy nods. "What'll ya have?"

I peer into his glass. "Whatever you're having."

"Whiskey, straight up." He calls to the bartender, who nods his head.

The bartender brings me my drink promptly. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," Yancy smirks, "So, why's a pretty lady like you got such a down in the dumps look your face?"

"That's just my face." I take a sip of the strong whiskey.

"Where's your kid?"

"Keeping the motor running our front," I scoff, "He's with my parents."

"You don't celebrate the new year with family?"

"My kid drops like a cannonball before nine every night," I dryly inform him, "We always do something fun the next morning."

"So, you pushed him on mom and dad, so you could come here to be alone?"

"The booze are good here," I take another drink, "You got that right."

"Sure did." He downs the rest of his whiskey. "So, how'd the tree hold up?"

I sigh out. "Do you want to go to the bathroom?"

"What?"

"You didn't come over here to ask me about my boy, or to ask me how long my tree stayed alive," I peer candidly at him, "You came over here, because you want to screw me."

Yancy breaks out in semi-nervous chuckle. "Damn, darlin', you don't play games."

"Oh, I play," I contrarily retort, "Just with different rules."

He smiles to the side, before looking back at the bathrooms. "Which one do you think will be more private?"

"Well, since the only other two ladies in here just left the bathroom five minutes ago, I'd say we should shoot for that one."

Yancy scoffs, humored. "Lead the way."

I throw back my whiskey, slide off my barstool, and head to the women's bathroom without looking back to see if he's following.

Fifteen minutes minutes later, we leave the second bathroom stall that creaked and banged as Yancy screwed me against one side. I smooth the front of my dress, before I exit the bathroom. I don't wait for Yancy to get himself in order. I really don't think he's interested in me beyond the end goal that was achieved.

It wasn't even that enjoyable to me. I guess it was maybe the location, or that Yancy kept trying to kiss me, which was annoying. I just sort of wrote my grocery list for the next day in my head, occasionally being interrupted by him thrusting too hard and causing my head to knock against the plastic partition, or by a small, moan worthy feeling.

"Want another drink?" He asks behind me, after leaving the bathroom a few seconds after me.

"No, thanks, I'm-" I stop dead in my tracks when I see another familiar face sitting at the bar. Sitting, in fact, where I was just seated. Negan says something to the bartender that makes him nod and grab some type of scotch off the shelf.

"Yea, or nay?"

I give Yancy a quick glance. "Nay. I think that's my friend over there."

"Suit yourself." And like that, Yancy walks away without any regard of me more.

"Hey," I call as I stroll over to the Negan, "You're in my seat."

When he sees me, he smirks into an incredulous grin. "You move your feet, you lose your seat, so too fuckin' bad."

I rest my arm on the bar. "You wanna step outside, smart ass?"

Negan chuckles huskily. "I don't want any trouble."

"Well, trouble wants you, buddy."

"Why don't we settle this like gentlemen and compromise," He jokes, "We'll share; I sit here and you sit on my lap."

I give him a 'ha-ha' smirk, before leaning closer. "I'd rather sit on your face."

"So would I, if I wasn't sure they'd kick us out of this shithole."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the hell are you here?"

His smile wanes slightly and he looks into his glass, before taking a swig. "I had to get out of the house for a little while. I took a drive and wound up here."

"Are your in-laws in town?" I aimlessly inquire, waving down the bartender for another whiskey.

"Nope, they had about all they could stand of me for four whole days, they decided not to stay for New Year's. Good fuckin' riddance."

I nod, "Do they know you screw around on their daughter?"

Negan huffs with chagrin. "Nope, they just never came around to liking me," He smiles at me, "I can get anyone to like me, you're a good example to that, but Lucille's folks? No fuckin' chance."

"Why not?" I put myself up on the stool next to him. "I mean, aside from the obvious reasons?"

"No one's good enough for Lucille."

"Excuse me," The bartender awkwardly interrupts, "The gentleman over there wanted me to give this to you."

I look over at Yancy as the bartender slips me a napkin with my purple panties folded between it. "Thanks."

When I let him pull them down in the bathroom, they had slid past my ankles and completely off by time he hoisted my up to wrap my legs around his waist. I know this sounds trashy as fuck, but I just left them there, because I wasn't gonna put them back on after they were on the dirty floor.

"What the fuck is that?" Negan stares down at the napkin.

"It's nothing," I convey disgust as Yancy winks at me with a grin on his face, "Could you throw this way, please?"

The bartender points to the garbage can ten feet behind me. I shoot Yancy another look as I get up to toss my unwanted underwear away. As I go back to where Negan and I are sitting, I notice Negan's eyes trail up my frame.

"What was in the napkin?" He asks up front. "And who the hell is that handsome drink of water?"

"It was nothing and he's nobody." I kick back my whiskey, feeling a little nauseous.

"You're not wearing underwear," Negan says, matter of fact, "Was that what was in the napkin?"

I look over. "Yeah, alright? It was."

He scowls as his eyes stare beyond me. "Is that the guy that called you the other day we were at the motel?"

I nearly burst out in laughter, but I compose myself. "God, no. He's just some guy I met last week when Jol and I went to pick out a tree."

"So, in other words, he's a practical stranger that you fucked just now."

"In the bathroom." I snottily hiss.

Negan scoffs, motioning the poor bartender over here for another drink. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Thank you."

"I hope you used protection."

"Yeah, we did, thanks."

He rolls his eyes, drinking from his freshly poured scotch. "Un-fucking-believable, shit for brains."

I scratch my brow, agitated. "Boy, I should give you my sister's number, so you can dish with each other about how much of a flaming slut I am."

"I didn't call you a slut."

"Neither did she, but..." But I don't have anything to retort, so I just give a flustered huff.

"How was your holiday?" Negan forces after a few seconds.

"It was good, until I talked to Jolyon's father...then Jol and I made cinnamon rolls and everything was good again and then..." The whole conversation with Audrey materializes in my head. "Then I got drunk and was sent to bed. Same as on thanksgiving."

"Ever think of laying off the sauce?" He rudely suggests. "It might do you some good, instead of making you act like a fuckin' horse's ass."

"Thanks for telling me what three therapists and about a hundred others have said for years."

"I'm just sayin', it-"

"Stop saying and just shut up," I reach into my purse and rifle around for my wallet.

"Fucking hell, Pippa."

"You know what?" I snap, "I'm an adult who can make my own decisions, alright? I don't need you to coach me on shit you don't know anything about."

"Sounds like a fucking excuse to me." He chuckles acridly.

"You have no idea what I've been through."

"Maybe not, but what the fuck does that have to do with you being an angry, bitter fucking drunk right now?"

" _Everything._ " I move away from the bar, slapping money down on the counter. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, well, fuck you, too."

I storm out of the bar and desperately seek out my cigarettes. My hands shake a little as I try to light one, making it difficult to keep my thumb steady. "Fuck!" I lean against the brick wall and close my eyes. Audrey's right; I should end this shit with him. I should end it with Dwight, too. I peer out at Negan's car in the parking lot. I should slash his tires.

A commotion suddenly breaks out from inside the bar, causing a few gasps. I hear the bartender shout over the loud crashing sound and a moment later, the door bursts open. Negan comes stalking out with his hand touching his lip for signs of blood.

"The hell happened to you?"

He glances my way, licking his bottom lip where I do see blood. "That asswipe had the fuckin' balls to come up and tell me how tight and ready to go you were." He looks down at his knuckles.

"You started it?"

"I might have."

I scoff, "And here you were just telling me how I should better myself."

"I was defending you, you dick."

"I didn't ask you to!"

"Well, someone has to and it might as fuckin' well be me!" Negan retorts angrily, "You're a one woman disaster, but I'm not gonna let prick like that fucking demean you."

Heart silently beating wild, I give him a dumbfounded look over, before I start to approach him.

 **...**

"Jesus," His weathered hands grip my hips tighter, "Fuck!"

I laugh, putting my hands on the back seat above his head, before lustfully kissing him. Negan brings me closer, reaching his hand under my dress to grab one of my breasts. I start to thrust a little harder when we both sound close. He gets there before I do, but I follow shortly after and we both chuckle breathily.

"Goddamn," He pants, "You have a gift."

"You say that to every woman." I laugh, running my hand over his sweaty hair.

"Yeah, but with you I mean it."

"Asshole." I get off of him.

"Wanna get a bite to eat?"

"Shouldn't you head home before your wife files a missing persons report?"

"Nah, she's not worried."

I chuckle, "Okay, I am pretty hungry."

"This is your town," Negan coils one of my curls around his finger, "Where's a good place to eat?"

I think for a minute and smile. "Lorelei's off Orange."

Negan is both thrilled and humored by the look of the diner. "Ho-ly shit, look at this!"

"It's actually from the 50s," I educate him, "Not just some cheap imitation."

"Oh, well, that makes the decor seem less fuckin' tacky."

"Hi, Pippa!" Mindy waves at me as we enter the building.

"Hi," I smile, suddenly regretting bringing Negan here.

"I'll get you a booth." She shyly smiles at Negan, before gathering up two menus and walking us over. "How've ya been? You haven't worked in a awhile, right?"

"Uh, no, I haven't gotten called in." I quickly reply, "We'll have some coffee and water, please."

"Coming up."

"Oh my god," Negan grins, "This place?" He points his finger down on the counter. "This is the place you work?"

I browse the menu. "Yeah, Sherlock, this is where I pick up shifts."

"You wear that?" He nods over to Mindy's uniform.

"I do."

"That's...sort of hot."

"Don't tell anyone at work," I warn him, "Or Lucille will have to file a missing persons report. Not that they'll ever find you."

Negan laughs. "What's there to be ashamed of?"

"I don't want people thinking I'm hard up. You and Lourdes are the only two that know and I'd prefer it stay that way."

"Lourdes knows?" He acts mildly offended. "You told that bitch, but not me?"

"She's not a bitch and she found out because her and Simon came here one night when I was working."

Negan rolls his eyes. "Lucky, I would've loved to have you serve me."

"Hopefully you would've have been a better tipper than Simon."

"Sure, I would've given you more than just the tip."

Mindy nearly drops the coffee cups and water glasses she's got balanced on a small tray, astonished. "Uh, here's your water and...coffee."

"Thanks." I look at Negan, who's grinning ear to ear.

"Ready to order?"

"Sure." After Negan and I order and Mindy walks off, I lightly kick him under the table. "Don't talk like that in front of people I know."

Negan smiles. "I didn't know she was coming up."

I stir some milk and sugar into my coffee. "Fair enough."

"So, where'd you get that necklace?" He asks, spying my Christmas present . "Boyfriend?"

"No," I lift the bars up to reveal Jolyon's name, "My mom bought it for me for Jolyon to give me for Christmas."

"Pretty," He nonchalantly notes, but I can't help but sense that he's relieved that it wasn't from my "boyfriend."

"I did get something from him, though."

He looks up from his mug. "Bullshit."

"No, he got me a pair of oven mitts," I relay, "And something else."

"What else?"

I smile, but not as a cruel gesture. "It's private."

His eyes scan my face and then suddenly he knits his brows in what looks like uneasiness. "That's creepy as shit."

I furrow brows. "What are you...Oh, ew! No, nothing like that, you sicko!" I shake my head and glance out the window.

Negan chuckles, "Well, you said 'private'."

"I meant none of your business," I cackle, "Like something special that has meaning that I don't feel like sharing."

He scoffs, skeptical. "Like fuckin' oven mitts? If I would've got Lucille oven mitts, she would've used 'em to make sure she didn't leave any fingerprints."

I laugh, "The oven mitts were sort of a joke." I feel my smile lessen. "Besides, it's not like he could've gotten me anything nicer."

"Why not? Is he a loser with a go nowhere job?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I watch the condensation on my water glass slide down to the bottom. "Let's just drop it."

"Fine," Negan sighs.

My eyes trail off to his bruised knuckles. "Thanks for defending what shred of honor I have."

"Any day of the week, baby," He turns the salt shaker on the table, "Well, unless Lucille needs me first."

She doesn't need him and he knows that, but I'm not gonna say it. I just offer a smile and keep my mouth shut. Mindy brings our food over to the table a few seconds later.

"Here you go," She sets each plate down, "And Happy New Year!" We both look over her. "It's midnight!"

"Oh," I nod, looking at Negan, "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." He raises his coffee mug. I raise mine and we jokingly clink glasses.

"Maybe a new year's resolution of yours could be to get sober." He suggests, cutting into his omelet.

"Sure, I'm great at setting up goals to fail at." I quip.

"What if I helped you?"

My eyes move from my biscuits and gravy. "What?"

"I could help you get your drinking under control," Negan clarifies, giving me a serious gaze, "I like helping people and what better fucking project than your ass?"

I huff, shaking my head. "I'm a person, not a project, Negan. And I don't need to be saved."

"Don't need to, or don't fuckin' want to?"

I stare at him. "It's not as bad as you think, okay? You're just always seeing me at my worst."

"Which is when? Always?" Negan scoffs, "Come on, Pip, if not for yourself, then-"

"Don't do that," I cut him off, "Don't bring Jolyon into this. I am a good mother."

"I didn't say you weren't," He shrugs, "But eventually, things are gonna slip further out and you're gonna slide with it."

"Why the hell do you want to help me so bad?"

"Because I like you, Pippa, and I like your boy and I don't want to fuckin' see his life wrecked because of you can't get your shit together."

I go to fire back, but I can't think of a good counter point. Maybe he's right. Tears start to gather. "You really want to help me?"

"Yes."

I nod my head, poking my fork at my food. "I might be willing to give it a go, despite my many reservations."

"Good." Negan smiles.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter! Thanks for reading!**

 **I love that most of you like the odd conversations Pippa has with Simon, as well the dynamics between Negan and Pippa over Dwight and Pippa. Total opposite from Save Yourself. I'm curious, what do those of you who like N/P like about their relationship and what don't you like? What don't you like/ do you like about Pippa's relationship with Dwight?**


	28. Chapter 28

I wake up this morning on my stomach, one arm and half of my leg draped over the edge of the bed. I'm surprisingly not hungover, but my neck hurts and I feel stiff all over. My body's on the left side of the bed, which is strange considering I usually sleep on the right. I turn myself over onto my back and it's when I go to peek at the alarm clock on my right side table that I start to remember.

I don't ever make my bed, because it's always a task I can't be bothered with since it just seems pointless, however, I know the reason why that sides tossed like it is. Negan was here last night, or rather early this morning. He insisted on making sure I got back alright, since I had been drinking, but I think it was just some ploy to get it in one more time, before he had to go home. He's an asshole, but I'll admit I like him.

A glasslike clink abruptly comes from outside my room and what sounds like the kitchen. I sit up, listening. I hear footsteps and the kitchen sink turning on, which sends my heart into a panic. I quietly scramble to get into my purse on the floor for my pepper spray. I unlock it and steadily foot my way to my bedroom door.

I listen to the rushing water and more steps as I ease myself out of my bedroom and down the hall. I grow increasingly nervous as I slowly walk towards the apparent intruder in my kitchen. However, as I get closer, I'm relieved to hear a familiar whistling, much to my annoyance. I lower my pepper spray and pad into the kitchen.

"You almost got pepper sprayed." I dryly inform him.

Negan looks over his shoulder at me, smiling as he whistles again. "And a good morning to you, too."

"What are you still doing here?" I take inventory of some bottles by the sink. "Did you make coffee?"

"Yes and I called Lucille and told her I met a coworker at the bar, who needed to be babysat for the night, since they were such a surly drunk."

I scoff, crossing my arms. "And she was perfectly fine with you being gone all night?"

"After the argument we had? Damn right she was fine with it. She barely asked any questions."

"Sad when your spouse doesn't care if you spend the night at another woman's house, just so she can get a break from you."

"You've clearly never been married," Negan chuckles, "And I didn't tell her I was with a woman coworker."

"Sneaky," I retort, not necessarily amused, "Hey, that's my good gin!"

"Correction," Negan takes the bottle and tilts it, letting it pour down the drain, "It was your good gin."

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"You fuckin' said you wanted me to help you get your drinking under control and that's exactly what I'm doing."

I go to save another bottle from him, but he's too quick. "Damn it, Negan, don't do that!"

He shakes the last few drops from a bottle he mercilessly emptied into the sink. "Whoopsie daisy!"

"This...this is not what I meant!"

"How the fuck else are you gonna sober up, if you got all this temptation lying around the house? Oh, and I found the ones in your bedside table, right next to the lube you forgot to mention you had last night, so don't try to go lookin' for it."

"You went through my bedside table? Have you ever fucking heard of privacy?"

"I also went through your medicine cabinet," He grins, "But that was just out of curiosity."

I roll my eyes, before they widen. "Hey, no, let me keep at least one!"

"Nope, it's all gotta go."

"You-" I push his shoulder when he snatches the last bottle, "Fucker!"

Negan laughs. "All gone!"

"Do you know how much of my money you just poured down that fucking drain?"

"Yeah, probably about half of what you spent, considering most of these were half gone."

I huff, flustered. "Go home, you pain in the ass!"

"Did I push one button too many?" He grins.

"There's none left to push," I growl.

"You'll get over it."

"Yeah, as soon as you leave."

"Or..." He takes a step closer to me, "As soon as I lay you out on your table."

I scoff, "I'm not exactly in the mood to be plowed on the table I eat on."

"I smell like gin."

"That only makes me want to drown you."

"How about your countertop?" He chuckles, inclining to kiss me.

I put my hand on his chest to stop him. "Uh-uh, I don't think so," I say, regrettably letting a giggle slip out.

"Oh, really?" Negan smiles, "Because I was hoping to maybe replicate what we did last night and the kitchen does seem like the appropriate place to do it."

"You kind of turned me off when you dumped all my booze down the sink."

"I was doing it for your benefit," He claims, bending a little, so he can slide his hand along my thigh, "Because I like you."

"Oh, yeah?" I feel my breath climb. "You think you like me?"

"I know I fuckin' like you."

"Well, I don't like you."

He snickers. "Is that right?"

"Yes it is." I put my hand on his as it touches my inner thigh, holding it place.

"But you like that?" Negan grins, "My hand being there?"

"Maybe," I smirk, "Maybe hands there in general."

He smiles, snickering, just before kissing me. "Asshole."

I chuckle, then I let him consume me. He snakes his hands around to the other side of my legs, before hiking me up onto the counter. I don't have to wrap my legs around him, because he does it for me. Negan trails up under my long sleep shirt, probably to find my underwear to bring them down. He furrows his brows at me and smiles.

I laugh. "Already off, champ."

"God, I love you." Negan chuckles, crashing his mouth on mine. My eyes take him in after he says that. I know it was said casually, like last time, but knowing what I know about him now worries me. "What?"

I shake my head, as I start to undo his belt. "Nothing."

We go at it, hot and heavy. Every time Negan bucks into me, the cupboard doors below us bang, which causes us to chuckle between moans. I wrap my arm around his neck, while bringing him closer to me with the other hand on his back. I try not to cry out like I am, but it sort of distracts me from the whirling thoughts of him and Lourdes. Plus, he's really good, not that I'll ever let him know.

Negan feverously peppers my skin with his mouth, almost desperately. I take my hands off him, placing them on the counter, as I feel it coming. I close my eyes, tilting my head back until it touches the cabinet.

"Oh, god, Negan!" I moan, breaking into a chuckle and then snapping up into another moan when another twinge of pleasure strikes. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway has me opening up my eyes again and peering outside the window. Fuck, it's it my dad and Jolyon. I push Negan away. "Stop, stop!"

"What?" Negan follows my gaze out the window.

"My dad's dropping off Jolyon." I leap of the counter and practically bolt for my bedroom to put a bra and underwear. A knock on the door arrives a minute later. "Coming!"

"Hi!" I hear Jolyon beam right after the sound of the door opening. "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, kid." Negan chuckles, "Hi, I'm Negan."

"Hello," Dad says with a hint of uncertainty, "I'm Joe."

"Nice to meet cha." Negan replies with that usual friendly manner of his.

I hurry back to the front door, where my dad immediately looks over at me, bewildered. "Hey, Pipsqueak."

"Hi, Mom!" Jolyon runs over to hug me.

"Hi, Jol," I pick him up, "Did you have fun last night?"

"I didn't get to throw confetti, because I fell asleep."

"Well, we'll have to make up for it," I look over at Dad, "Thanks for watching him."

"No problem."

My eyes follow his as they eye Negan. "Negan and I work together."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, Lourdes and I ran into him last night and I let him sleep on the couch, because he had too much to drink."

Negan knits his brows at me, slowly grinning at my lie. "Yeah, Pippa is a _real_ good friend." Jolyon turns his head in Negan's direction at those words.

"That doesn't sound like her." Dad says flatly, before both of them laugh.

"Ha-ha!" I chuckle, smiling towards Jolyon, who's eyes still seem to be pondering Negan.

Dad smiles, "Well, I gotta go," he opens the door, "Your mom and I are heading up to Audrey's."

"Oh," I lower Jolyon to the floor, "She invited you?"

"Yeah, she does every year," Dad looks me over, "She didn't call you?"

"No, but it's okay," I dismiss with a smile, "Jol and I were gonna go ice skating, or go to the movies, or something."

"Can we go to Loralee's?" Jolyon asks up at me.

I snicker, "Yeah, we can go to Lorelei's."

My dad sighs, "Well, I'll see you two later. Call your sister." He glances at Negan. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Negan smiles.

After Dad leaves, I look at Negan like that was a close call, before exhaling. "Alright, take your coat off, babe."

"It's chilly out there!"

"Yeah? Well, I'll run you a bath."

"Can I have some hot chocolate?"

"Uh, yeah," I move past Negan and go back into the kitchen. I set some milk on the stove to heat up.

"Dad seemed nice, Pipsqueak."

I scoff. "Yeah, he is, but I'll thank you not to open my door next time."

"It's fuckin' rude to let people stand out in the cold for too long, am I right?"

"Yeah," Jolyon agrees, which makes Negan chuckle.

"See?"

I make a face at him. "Well, I don't want him to think poorly of me."

"Well, he's already established that you're a liar, so so much for that."

"Shut up," I peer down at Jolyon sitting at the table, "I'm gonna go run you a bath, alright?" I then return my eyes to Negan. "You can leave."

I go into the bathroom and turn the bath faucet on, slipping my fingers under the water until I've found the right temperature. I sit on the ledge in wait. I can hear their voices just barely over the running water, which means that Negan hasn't hit the road yet.

"Are you and my mom friends?"

"We are, for the most part." Negan answers. "Sometimes your mom's a bitch."

"Hey, you're not allowed to call names at our house!"

"My apologies," Negan retorts, humored, "Your mother gave me a different impression." There's a moment's silence and then a more sincere; "I'm sorry."

Jolyon's quiet for a second, before; "Are you very good friends?"

"You could say that, yeah."

The bath fills about a fourth of the way up before I shut the water off and exit to get a towel from the laundry room.

"Mommy has another very good friend." Jolyon says.

"She does, does she?"

"Yeah," Jol confirms, slurping what I can only imagine is hot chocolate, "He came over to our house and we ate pizza and watched Christmas shows. And then, Mommy and Dwight were naked in Mommy's bed."

"They were?" Negan asks, curiously spurned.

"Yeah, Mommy said they were having sex, because that's what grown ups do when they're very good friends," Jolyon innocently relays, "Do you and Mommy have sex?"

"Jolyon!" I gasp, embarrassed, and they both look over at me. I meekly look away from Negan. "You're bath is ready, so go wait for me, please."

Jolyon slinks off the chair and walks out of the room. Negan stares at me with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. I sniff some leakiness from my nose, before clearing Jolyon's mug off the table.

"So, this other asshole has a name?" Negan finally asks.

"Doesn't everyone?"

He bitterly scoffs behind me, "You know, it's funny; I recall awhile back you griping how you didn't want to have sex when your kid was around, because you didn't want him catching us. In your home, to be more fuckin' specific."

"Yeah, I still stand by that." I reply.

"But not with this...Dwight asshole?" Negan glances over, brow raised. "Is he the exception to that rule?"

"It was an accident," I bluntly claim, staring back, "He came over, unannounced, he ended up staying for awhile, Jol fell asleep, and...exactly what I didn't want to happen, happened."

Negan moves his tongue around inside his mouth, mulling this information. "It was only that one time?"

I scoff, "Yeah, he only walked in that one time, but it was enough."

"I meant, did you screw him here, while Jolyon was home, just that one time, but I think got my fucking answer."

I lick my lips, annoyed. "That's none of your goddamn business and I don't know who the fuck you think you are asking me this shit."

"Who the fuck is this guy that he has some sort of fuckin' platinum status that waves the 'not while my kid's around' rule?"

"Why is it so important to you?" I retort, almost shouting, before I catch myself. "I don't feel like I should have to justify why I don't want to have sex with anyone while my son's down the hall."

"But you have?" Negan rotates the mug in his hand on the table. "Had sex while the kid's home?"

I sigh, both angry and tired. "Yes, I have. A few times," I sorely chuckle, "Satisfied? Does it feel good to know that I waited until Jolyon was asleep and then snuck this guy in, so I could let him...have sex with me and then leave?" Negan just stares at me with a unreadable face. "Well, does it?"

"I don't know," He says, "Does it?"

The question hits me like a bullet, but I remain standing where I am, though I'm sure he knows. I rub the side of my cold arm, thinking about the answer, before I look down to the floor. "Yes."

"Yes?" Negan asks, incredulously. "It feels good to be someone's sneak around, good time gal?"

"No, but...yes at the same time."

"How fucking so?"

I proudly swallow the lump in my throat. "Because when I'm with him...it makes up for all the time that I'm not with him."

"Even if it means he comes and he goes?" He grins, amused by his own play on words.

"Yes," I shuffle my feet, "But like I said, you don't understand."

"Jesus," He gets up from the table, "Alright, then."

"Don't patronize me."

"I didn't say shit," Negan chuckles, "Except maybe you pay for the motel rooms from now on, since you insist we go out the way to fuck around.'

"You live three towns away and don't have a job that would explain why you're not home until after midnight."

"Oh-ho-ho!" He laughs huskily. "So, he's married?"

"Go home," I faintly sneer, "I have to bathe my kid."

"Damn, honey, you really know how to pick 'em."

"I'll remind you that you are one of them," I follow him to the door, "And you're definitely the bigger asshole."

"I'm always the bigger everything." He winks, before throatily chuckling. "Alright, I'll see ya around."

"Yeah, I'll see you at work."

"Ta-ta."

"Bye, Negan!" Jolyon calls from the bathroom doorway.

"See ya, kid." He looks at me one last time, pointing. "Don't buy anymore fucking gin."

"You've hardly left me in any condition not to need a drink."

Negan just chuckles as he leaves my home.

I put my hands on my hips and shift my body in Jolyon's direction. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Jolyon walks back into the bathroom.

He undresses them climbs into the bathwater. I heat it up a little more, since Negan and I's conversation gave it time to cool down. Once the water's fine, I sit down on the stool next to the tub and dip the soft, star patterned washcloth in.

"I wanna wash myself, Mom." Jolyon reaches for the washcloth.

"Okay," I hand it to him, "Don't forget to wash your face."

"I'm a big kid," He proclaims running the cloth along his arm, "I know how."

I snicker into a smile. "Alright, big kid."

"Mommy, are you mad?"

I slightly furrow my brow, puzzled. "No, I'm not mad. Why do you think I'm mad?"

"Because I didn't keep the secret," Jolyon looks at me like he's done a bad thing.

"Oh, well, that's okay, but remember that we keep that kind of stuff private from now on, okay?"

"Okay," Jolyon watches his rubber shark float by, "Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"Negan said he was your very good friend."

"Yeah?"

"But I thought Dwight was your very good friend."

Fuck. I slowly nod my head, unsure of what to say. "Yeah, he is."

"But you said very good friends have sex."

"Sometimes," I clarify, "I said sometimes. Not all very good friends...have sex." Christ, it feels so weird talking about sex with my three year old.

"Do you and Negan have sex?"

"...Um, We have."

"But you said not-"

"Not all friends have sex, but Negan and I...are very good friends that sometimes like to be with each other like that."

Jolyon opens up his palm, so I can distribute some soap. "Okay."

"Jolyon, we're not gonna talk about sex anymore, alright?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not nice to talk about what people do in private and it's not polite to ask what people either."

"Oh, okay."

Something tells me I'm gonna have to watch him.

 **...**

Winter break finally ends and I'm more than glad to be back to having something to do with my time. I haven't had a drop to drink since Negan poured out my gin, but don't go praising just yet. I did substitute it with smoking like a chimney and even burning some of that shit Simon gave me. That and dragging Jolyon around town, so I won't have to be at home and undistracted.

Lourdes asks me to coffee after work today and I agree, since I haven't talked to her since the staff holiday party. When I tell her I have to take my life insurance policy forms to the front office to mail, then pick Jolyon up, she offers to run down and get him for me, since I technically haven't filled the forms out yet.

I get a knock at my door shortly after Lourdes leaves. "Yes?"

"It's Ravinder."

I look up and see her face in the window. "Oh, come in."

"Hi," She smiles, "I don't mean to bother you, but my sister left without me again."

"Go ahead." I point to the phone.

"Thanks."

Her sister's such a brat. I don't think Audrey was ever mean to me for the hell of it like Nanda is to Ravinder. I glance towards my phone, contemplating calling her. My dad told me to the other day, which means he knew we must have been arguing. She was so appalled by my confession on Christmas that she could barely stand to be in the same room as me the rest of the time she was here. When she hugged me goodbye, it was airy and distant.

"Okay, I'm gonna go wait outside."

"You sure?" I ask, "It's pretty cold outside."

"Yeah, it's okay," She goes to leave, before halting, "Hey, Ms. Barnes?"

"Hm?"

"I was wondering, if you heard about the Smithsonian trip in April?"

"Uh, yeah, I heard," I reply, "Sounds like fun."

"You should think about chaperoning," Ravinder suggests, "It's like the biggest trip of the year and they only do it every other year."

"I'll think about it." I smile.

"Okay, see ya."

"Bye, Rav." Just about the time she closes the door, my phone rings. I glance down to see it's Lourdes. "Hello?"

"Hey, is Jolyon's last name not the same as yours?" She asks over the phone.

"No, it's Porter."

"Oh, really?" Lourdes huffs, "They're being such asses about it, because I didn't know his correct last name."

"Just put 'em on."

There's a hard to hear exchange of words. "Hello? Ms. Barnes?"

"Hi, Miss Jessica," I greet.

"We have Lourdes Alvarado here, claiming she's here to pick up Jolyon for you?"

"Yeah, I sent her over."

"Okie dokie, then!" Miss Jessica says with her typical sweet voice. "I just wanted to double check with you!"

"Thank you." I hang up the phone and fill the rest of my forms out.

After all that's done and Lourdes returns with my son, we all go to the coffee house that Lourdes likes. Jolyon asks for a gingerbread cookie, but picks off all the individual white pearl sprinkles off, so that occupies him for a great while.

"Jessica is such a gag!" Lourdes gripes as we sit down at a little table. "She's so saccharine and bubbly, uh! Annoying."

"I think she and Ne-"

"Yeah, they are," Lourdes answers before I can finish, "At least they might be still, I don't know."

"How did he even meet her?" I chuckle, trying not appear as if I'm snooping out of jealousy. I'm really not jealous, I just am curious.

"God only knows." She rolls her eyes. "I really don't see what he likes about her, except maybe that she's a pretty face. She's so sweet, it has to get on his nerves. She spends way too much time with preschoolers."

"Well, maybe she's different when they're alone."

Lourdes scoffs, taking a sip from her coffee. "Please. Negan use to say she was too giggly and his ears ring for an hour after she climaxes."

At that, _I_ scoff. "What an asshole!" I look over at Jolyon. "Sorry, Jol. I mean, how rude to talk about someone like that to another person. Why does he keep fooling around with her, if she's so irritating?"

"Because he's asshole...sorry, bebé."

I irritably drink from my cup. "So, how was our holiday?"

"It was alright," She shrugs, "I called my family, but they didn't pick up."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. Simon and I drove down to Charleston, which was nice. We had a good time."

"I'm glad."

"How was your Christmas?"

"I wish I could say it was good, but aside from the morning, it was...pretty shitty."

"Oh, really? Why?"

I take a quick look over at Jolyon. "Well, I got a little tipsy again and...I told my sister about Dwight...and Negan."

Lourdes' eyes widen in shock. "Oh, shit, what?"

"It went over about as well as you'd think."

"Damn, Pip," She chuckles, "That sucks."

"Yeah."

"Here." Jolyon pushes over the napkin of sprinkles.

"Thanks."

Lourdes smiles. "Is it edible now?"

"Yeah," He nods, taking a bite, "Do you want to share?"

"Oh, I'm good, but thank you, sweetie." She sighs, longingly. "I love your son."

"I love you, too!" Jolyon cheers.

"Oh, you are so the best!" Lourdes kisses his cheek. "I want a kid just as sweet as Jol."

"Have you thought about having a baby?"

Lourdes sits up in her chair and shakes her head, while glancing down at her latte. "Uh, no. Simon doesn't really want kids and...and yeah."

"What is it?" I inquire, because I get the notion that she meant to say more, but didn't.

She licks her bottom lip. "Um, I...I had a miscarriage over the summer."

There's a familiar tightening in my chest. "Oh...I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Lourdes faintly smiles, "I, um...I didn't know that was, um, pregnant." She peers back into her coffee, then looks off to the side. "Simon said maybe it was for the best."

"What?"

"He said we weren't really in any shape to be having kids and, well, he doesn't want kids, so...it was okay. I guess maybe he was right. We...should probably clean up a little, before anything."

"But you still want kids?"

She shrugs her shoulders, cupping both hands around her cup. "Yeah, but maybe...I don't know. Maybe he'll change his mind down the road."

I wish I had it in me to tell her that I don't think he'll change his mind, but I can't. Not after what she's just told me. It does make me hate Simon, though. When she smiles, semi-hopeful at me, all I do is smile back.

"No one knows," She adds, "At work, I mean. I'd prefer if they didn't."

"No, of course! I would never."

"Especially _him_."

I nod my head. "Okay."

She leans back a bit, exhaling, then gets up. "I'm gonna order something from the bakery, do you want anything?"

"No, thanks."

I take a few good, deep breaths to release the emotional tension I feel inside. I want a drink. My phone beeps, alerting me of a text message and when I see that it's Dwight, I have to ignore. I just can't. Not now.

"I can't believe Lucille spoke to me at the party," Lourdes says, sitting back down with a cinnamon roll, "That woman is bold and fearless."

"Well, at least she was fairly cordial."

"Yeah," She takes a bite.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure."

I contemplate for a moment on whether or not I should bring it up. "Um, when Simon and I were dancing the other night at the party, he said that you and Negan were pretty close."

Lourdes wipes frosting off her upper lip with a napkin. "Oh?"

"Yeah, he...he said that you and him were actually pretty serious for some time and that...well, that Negan might have said some things that may have suggested that he'd leave Lucille."

She stares mild, but troubled at me. "Simon doesn't know what the hell's he's talking about."

I shrug. "I'm sorry, I just...it just seemed unlike Negan, so I thought I'd ask. Sorry, again."

"No, it's fine," She side glances over to Jolyon, who's coloring in his coloring book, before sighing, "Look, Negan and I were...we meshed well, I guess you could say, but I would never want to be with him full time."

"Oh, okay."

"...He may have said that he loved me, but it wasn't any damn promise and it certainly didn't mean shit to him. He'd say it and it'd sound real, but then he'd be just so cruel to me for no reason. It was just something to reel me in, so he'd have something to do while his wife was making something of herself."

"She does seem rather independent."

"Oh, for sure!" Lourdes nibbles on her pastry. "I'd bet my bottom dollar she could be without him and be just fine. Thriving even. But the other way around? God, no."

I chuckle meekly. "You think so?"

She taps her finger on the side of her coffee cup. "Okay, look, don't tell anyone this. I'm sure Simon may have mentioned it to you already, if he told you about Negan and I, but just don't say anything."

"I won't," I nervously promise, "What is it?"

"When Lucille found out about the two of us," Lourdes lowers her voice, leaning toward me, "She packed her bags and went to a friend's house for the a few nights."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and he left her about a million voicemails, apologizing, swearing it would never happen again, and asking her to come home, so they could work things out."

"That...that sounds awful." I say, actually feeling sorry for that asshole, even though he was the wrongdoer and still is.

"He cried in his office," She continues flatly, "I never told him I saw, or hear, but I did."

"Wow."

"Yeah...she took him back obviously, but I don't think they're marriage has ever been restored. I mean, she has to know there are others and that he didn't end the affair with me right away. Shit, I was the one who ended things. But, still, Lucille's a smart cookie; she knows him better than anyone."

"Yeah." I somberly agree, taking a drink from my americano.

"I don't think he's ever been able to get her back the way he wants to and it kills him."

"All he has to do is stop lying and cheating on her."

"I know, I know, but he's Negan, so...he does what he wants and hurts the people who care about him, then wonders why w-they retract from him."

 **...**

I wait by the door, nervous and impatient. Jolyon got asked to spend the night at his friend's house again and I let him. Paula seems like a nice lady and her daughter's such a sweetheart. I just hope she doesn't educate Jolyon on anything that I'll have to further fumble over my words with a sad excuse of an explanation.

His truck finally pulls up around eleven at night and I have half a mind to not answer the door to him. He's an hour late. I barely even wanted to give him the go ahead to come over, after that conversation with Negan. I open the door as soon as I hear his feet on the porch steps.

"You're late."

"There was a fender bender on the road home," Dwight says with a shiver, as he stalks in, "It caused a little traffic."

"Oh."

He shrug off his jacket. "Thank god, you got the heat on."

"How was your holiday?"

"I got home around six, so I had left overs, but it was good. Sherry stopped being mad at me."

"That's good."

"How about you?"

"It was good," I lie, "I got your package. I loved it, thank you."

He smiles. "I'm glad you liked it."

I chuckle at his attempts to not appear like he's freezing. "You want me to make you some coffee, or something?"

"No, I'm okay, "Dwight comes closer, "But I wouldn't mind a hot shower."

A smile picks up on my face. "Right this way."

We go to my bedroom's bathroom, where I turn the shower on. Steam fills the room and we dress down for the shower. I'm naked first, so I step into the shower, waiting for Dwight to follow shortly behind. He gets in, gently closing the glass door behind him, before pulling me close.

He fervently kisses me on the mouth as the water runs over us. "I love you, Pippa."

I open my eyes, despite the water. "I love you, too."

Dwight kisses me again, deeper. "I love you."

My brow puzzles as I let him walk me back to the tile wall, lifting up one of my legs. He continues to work his mouth on my wet skin, while I observe his fervor.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He says, breathy, "I just missed you."

"You could've come to see me before now."

"No, I couldn't. That's why I haven't."

"Why?"

Dwight sighs, "I just couldn't, okay?"

"...Okay." I reach down and grab him, making him flinch.

He's already hard, so I stroke him, until he moves my hand away so he can enter me. Dwight lifts my other leg and after a little maneuvering, we wrap my legs around him. It's warm, and steamy, and he feels so good. Except, he comes before I can, unlocking my legs, so he can pull out. I move around him to wash off in the water. His body presses against mine, his hands touching my belly and snaking down between my legs.

I extend my arm to the wall at the feeling, putting the other over his as he moves up and down. Dwight trails his free hand to my breast, while he plants soft kisses on my back. I'm struck silent, before I finally cry out and he stops. We both breath in place for a few moments.

"I love you, Dwight."

He pecks my bare, wet shoulder, before moving away, slicking his hair back. "I gotta go home pretty soon."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy! I had finals this week, so I was unable to work on both fics, but I figured since I only got to Save Yourself last week, then I'd write this new chapter this week. Thanks for reading!**

 **CLTex: Interesting, I agree that Negan and Pippa are definitely more entertaining, as well as destructive to one another. He sort of buoys her up, while Dwight seems to pull her down emotionally, but that could just be because she has high expectations of Dwight and you know what they say about great expectations.**

k **: That certainly a valid ship lol! Glad you enjoy the two pairing. What is it you like about N/P?**

 **StTudnoBright: It definitely could bring them closer. Negan likes helping people and he doesn't seem like a half-asser on what he sets his mind to. Plus, it'll give him and excuse to hang out with her more!**

 **Kara315: I'm glad you found/enjoyed the story! It is sort of hard to decided which she's best suitable with, considering the married situation and that she seems to give and take from both of them.**


	29. Chapter 29

January comes and goes before I know it and Jolyon's already making plans for his birthday party. His birthday's on the seventeenth of February which just happens to fall on a Saturday and he's made a list of all the people he wants to invite. And by "made a list", I mean he's had me make a list that I've lost like twelve times. I think it'll actually be pretty fun, since he's in preschool and has friends to invite. His previous birthdays included myself, him, his dad, uncomfortably, and some of the kids of friends of mine.

The only issues I have this year is whose included on the guest list. His father, which is no surprise, though I doubt it'll happen. Lourdes and the dog, which is cute and ten times more likely. But Jolyon also wants to invite my "very good friends" and that is one-hundred percent not going to happen. I also have to invite Audrey and her kids, whom I still haven't spoken to since Christmas.

Today, Jolyon's with Lourdes at her house. He's got a bad cold and she's been out sick the last two days. My parents are in D.C., visiting some friends, so I didn't have anyone else to watch him.

"Knock, knock," Negan says, opening the door to my classroom. Christ, school's been out for ten minutes and he's already getting his dick out.

"What do you want?" I ask, filing papers into class periods.

"You don't have the kid with you." He strolls over.

"Oh, so you think we're gonna tango?"

"Hope you got your dancing shoes."

I huff, smiling. "Well, I hate to break it to you, toots, but I have to go early today. Jolyon's been with Lourdes all day and I can't just leave him there for as long as I want, so I can't dick around with some loose gym coach."

"Tell her you're staying to grade some shit." Negan suggests, glancing at some things on the walls.

"Mm, I bet she'll believe that."

"Come on," He strolls over with a smirk, "Just quickie."

"A quickie is what I call a swift swig from a flask, before a family function."

"I thought you said you were fuckin' sober?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," I curtly inform him, "I've had a few drinks here and there, alright? Just whenever I'm at people's houses." Negan gives me a disapproving roll of the eyes. "Wine with dinner. If they offer, I don't want to be rude."

"There's a fuckin' lie in what you just said, but I'm not sure if that you only had a few drinks, or if it's that people have invited you over." He throatily laughs.

"Very funny, asshole," I scoff, humored, "I may not be good company, but people still want me as company."

"Maybe it's your parlor trick that has 'em calling you to supper."

I laugh, "Well, what can I say, I know my way around a-"

"Ms. Barnes?" One of my students enters. "I think I left my copy of Paradise Lost here."

"Yeah, I found it," I pluck the book off my desk, ignoring Negan's grin as I walk over to the kid, "Here."

"Thanks," He takes the book, "Chapters three and four, right?"

"Correct," I nod, "See ya tomorrow."

"Bye," He smiles, before lowering his eyes, "Bye, Coach." The student leaves before Negan has time to make some smart ass quip.

I look at him, all jokes aside. "I should go."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm out anyway."

"Out?" I raise my brow, as I get into my drawer to fish out my purse and keys. "Out of what?"

"Rubbers."

I turn my head his way. "You're such a prick."

"You come around a lot." He jokes.

"Oh, I'm solely responsible for your condom depletion?" I scoff, "Who are you trying to kid?"

"I haven't fuckin' been with anyone other than you for...oh, I don't know...before break."

I sling my purse onto my shoulder, staring at him. "What?"

"Well, okay, I've had sex with Lucille, but, c'mon on, Pip, she is my wife," His toothy grin grows, "And when she's in the mood, I-"

"That's enough." I storm past him. "I've gotta go pick up Jolyon."

"Need a ride?"

I scrunch my eyebrows. "What? No, you might recall that I have a car."

"What about the flat?"

I stop at the door, shifting my body. "Flat?"

"The flat tire," He clarifies, "One of the back tires on your Jeep is flat."

I hurry out to the parking lot to see for myself. He's got to be lying. This is just some ploy to keep me from leaving. He just wants to screw me before he goes home to screw his- son of a bitch! The back left tire is as flat as a fucking flapjack.

"Told you so," Negan sings behind me, striding up, "I saw it when I was coming back from lunch."

"Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you were in a pissy mood all morning. I assumed it was because of that."

"I was pissy this morning, because you parked in my spot." I retort.

"Someone parked in mine."

I sigh before bending forward to inspect the tire. "I don't see anything sticking out of it."

Negan comes over and squats down to take a look. "That's because it's been slashed."

"What?" Now I squat down to see. "What the fuck?"

"Whatever it was, wasn't very sharp," He concludes, poking his finger at hole, "Probably scissors, or a protractor."

I glance at Negan. "You think a student did this?"

"Not unless you pissed off one of our co-workers."

"I can't even think of any students that would do this."

"Well, someone did it."

"Fuck…" I comb my hand through my hair, "Well, what am I supposed to do?"

"Call to have it towed," Negan stands up, "Or to have the tire replaced."

"That'll take hours!"

"Well, then your shit out of luck."

"Do you have a spare?"

"We drive different cars, dumbass."

I get into my purse. "Fine, I guess I have no choice."

I call my insurance and they set me up with a driver that's about thirty minutes away. When that's done, I text Lourdes and tell her I'll be a little late.

"You gonna be okay here by yourself?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"I could stay."

I smirk over to him. "You want to stay."

"I don't have anywhere to be for another two hours."

"What about home?"

"Lucille's been working late."

"Aw," I saunter over to him, "And you've been so lonely and unappreciated? Tale as old as time."

"Then I'll be on my merry fucking way." He chuckles, beginning to head to his car.

"Hey, wait!" I call.

"Yeah?"

"Um, I am a little peckish," I cross my arms in the cold, "Mind taking me to the mini-mart down the road?"

…

"Well, why would you buy a brand that you've never heard of?" I ask, crunching on my cool ranch Doritos in the passenger seat.

"Because they were out of the usual," Negan looks down at the package, "What fucking language is this?"

I take it from him and look it over. "I think it's...Italian? I don't know." I snicker, pointing to the picture. "At least we know it's the right kind."

"I don't know, Pip."

I lick my fingers, before setting the bag down and climbing over to his side. "It's still a condom, I guess. Better than nothing."

Negan scoffs, grunting a little when I get on his lap. "Yeah, well, I don't think-"

"I'm on the pill," I kiss him, "It'll be fine."

"Like you're gonna be fine after you ate that saran wrap sandwich you bought?"

"It was just turkey," I kiss his neck, trying not to laugh, "What's the big deal?"

"I don't think I should have to tell a grown woman what's wrong with eating a fucking liquor store sandwich."

"And I," I stop to look into his eyes, "Don't think I should have to listen to a grown man gripe about a sandwich and a box of condoms."

He grins, "Well, then we better fuckin' get to it, before the tow truck guy gets here."

"I don't think you'd care, if he came." I graze my fingers through his hair, smiling.

"I would, if he came before I did."

We both laugh, warmly breathing into each other's faces. I lightly plant my lips onto his. His toasty hands work their way up my flannel shirt, caressing my skin. I let him undo my bra and feel my breasts.

"God, you've got some nice titties." He chuckles against my mouth. "All soft and pillowy."

I laugh, "Pillowy? Don't be such a sap, it doesn't become you."

Negan snickers, "Well, I mean, I have to give compliments where they're due. Did you breastfeed?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

He shrugs. "I thought tits sagged after you breastfeed?"

"They do," I giggle, "But formula's expensive and my mom taught me these exercises to keep 'em in tit top shape."

Negan grins wide. "Well, thank you, mom. Can I motorboat 'em?"

"Not unless you want to instantly lose all my attraction to you."

Negan laughs, "Can I ping pong my dick between 'em"

"Yikes, I'm a little less into you now."

He grins, lightly squeezing on of my "pillowy" tits. "Well, can I at least take aim and fire?"

"On my tits?" I scoff, half-incredulous. "You're asking me, a nice school teacher and a mother if you can empty on my breasts?"

"Yes, I am, so what do you say?"

I snicker, before pondering upward. "Hm, I think I'll have to say...maybe next time."

"Tch, so that's a fucking no." He exhales.

"That's a maybe." I go to kiss him again, but my phone rings in my purse that lays on the passenger side floor. "Oh, hold on."

"You know what?" Negan groans, "You are rude as fuck."

"It's Lourdes, I have to take it."

"Always taking fucking phone calls during sex." He grumbles, looking out the window.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Lourdes greets with stuffiness in her voice, "Is your tire fixed yet?"

"No, I'm still waiting," I carefully climb back over to Negan.

"Hi, Mom!" Jolyon calls over the phone.

"Hi, Jol,"I smile, "Is anything wrong?"

"No, I was just wondering if Jolyon was allergic to shellfish?"

"Uh, no," I shake my head, "Why?"

"Because Simon brought home Chinese food and it's got shrimp in it," Lourdes explains, "I just didn't want to give him shellfish and send him into anaphylactic shock."

I smile at Negan, even though it's at Lourdes' words. "Well, he's not allergic. Thanks for feeding him dinner."

"Sure. Are you by yourself?"

"Yes, I'm by myself." I put my mouth just at the tip of Negan's. "Why?"

"It'll be dark in like twenty minutes. I don't like you being alone."

"I'm…" I halt for a second, after Negan unbuttons my jeans, "I'm fine."

"Yes, you are." He mouths, smiling.

"I'm in the school parking lot, Lour."

"Yeah, but…you know, I could just send Simon to wait with you." Right after she says that, I can hear Simon object in the background. "Callete!"

"It's okay, Lourdes," I assure her, "I'll be fine. The driver will be here soon. Don't worry about it."

"...Alright, well, I'll see you in a few."

"Okay, bye." I hang up the phone. I sigh at Negan. "How the hell did you work one up, just sitting here?"

"Well, you are on my lap," He grins, "And you were tete-a-teting with my former flame. Who, by the way, is very open about-"

"I thought you said Lourdes wasn't a flame?" I arch my brow.

Negan looks into my eyes, before nonchalantly glancing down towards his belt. "She isn't."

"Well, then why did you-"

"I was being a smart ass, Pippa," He undoes his pants, "Are we gonna do this, or what?"

My eyes give him a quick up and down. "Yeah."

…

"What do you want for your birthday?" Mom asks Jolyon.

"Um...a puppy!"

"We just got a cat." I chuckle, dipping a fry into some ketchup.

"Hannah and her sisters got a puppy for Christmas."

"Yeah, well, you should've asked Santa for a puppy when you had the chance."

"Aw!" Jolyon pouts, leaning his cheek onto his fist.

"Have you talked to Audrey lately?" Mom digs at her salad.

"Nope," I shake my head, "She hasn't called."

"Have you called her?"

"No."

Mom rolls her eyes. "I don't know what happened, but your sisters and you need to reconcile."

"Easier said than done."

"Oh, please. And why is that?"

"Because not everything's just as simple as saying 'truce' and skipping into the sunset, okay?"

"Hi!" Jolyon suddenly bursts out, waving.

Mom and I look over to see who he's waving at. It's Sherry and Dwight, so I lower my gaze.

"Hello." Sherry greets, walking over to us. Her hair's disheveled up in a ponytail. She looks strange and I'm saying that because she's not wearing makeup. She looks like she's been crying.

"Hello," My mom greets back, "Hey, Dwight. It's good to see you."

"Yeah, it's good to see you, too, Sarah." He smiles back, then peers my way.

"How are you two?" I ask, "I haven't seen you guys in awhile."

"Yeah, it's been awhile." Sherry meekly smiles. "We just got back from D.C."

"Oh, what a coincidence," My mom says, "My husband and I just came in last night."

"Oh, yeah?" Dwight chimes in.

"We were at the hospital," Sherry adds, "My sister had diabetes and she forgot to take her insulin and her roomate had to call 9-1-1."

"Oh, wow," I wince, "I'm sorry to hear that. Is she alright now?"

"Yeah, she got released from the hospital." Dwight tells us, "She's gonna go back to school Monday."

"Dwight, I think-"

"She's fine, Sher," He interupts calmly, "She's old enough to decide, if she's up for it."

Sherry stiffens up her features, trying not seem angry. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Get us a table?"

"Yeah, sure." Her husband nods.

"Nice seeing you." She smiles at my family, before walking back to the restrooms.

Dwight turns back. "She wanted Tina to come stay with us for a little while, but Tina wanted to stay, since she just started a new semester."

"Oh," I nod, "Well, I'm sure she'll be okay."

"Yeah."

"I've been seeing your mother a lot lately," Mom says to Dwight, "At our Thursday night classes."

"Mom, you drink wine and watercolor in a room at the rec center."

"It's a city approved activity." She huffs. "And Caroline and I love it."

I roll my eyes, smiling at Dwight. "Well, it's good seeing you."

"Yeah," He nods, "Um, how's the sink holding up?"

"It's good," I look down at my food, "The hot's a little wonky, but it's not big deal."

"I could come by and take a look."

"Oh, that's so nice of you!" My mom smiles.

I nervously chuckle, "Uh, sure, that'd be great."

"Okay, give me a call," Dwight looks towards me, "See ya."

"Bye, D."

"He's such a sweet boy," Mom gushes, "He was always such a nice boy."

"Yeah…"

…

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you okay to talk?"

He exhales, "Lucille's in the bath, so make it quick."

"Okay." I put my cigarette up to my lips with a shaky hand.

"...Are you going to say something, or what?"

"Yeah," I cough, "Just give me a minute."

"You're lucky I picked up in the first fucking place, so no, I don't have a fucking minute."

"I'm sorry," I clear my throat, "I just needed to talk you for a minute."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing. I just...I need a drink and I don't any gin in my house, thanks to you, so I thought I'd call you tell you you're an asshole."

"Oh, boy," Negan snickers, "You getting a little shaky without the sauce?"

"No, it's just old outside." I try to steady my hands.

"Why are you outside?"

"Because I'm smoking."

"Uh...so, what happened?"

"What?"

"What happened that you need a drink?"

I lick my lips. "Nothing, I'm just thrisy."

"Right, 'cus booze is what the doctors recommend."

"I'm fine, I just...am feeling a little on edge."

"Why?"

"Because I am, okay?"

It's because Dwight's on his way. It's because I know what's going to happen after he is done with me. It's because despite the fact that I know that, I'm still excited that he's coming to be with me.

"Shit, you sound all wound up." Negan says.

"I am a little."

"...I gotta go, I hear the tub draining"

"Okay."

"I'm proud of you, Pip."

I smile, "Why?"

"Because you wanted to drink and you called me instead."

"Well, I'm not desperate enough to drag my sleeping kid out in the cold to drive to the liquor store."

"Good for you," He replies, earnestly, "I'll see ya tomorrow."

The lights of Dwight's truck illuminate the road. "Yeah, see ya."

I stand on the porch and watch the truck pull in behind my Jeep. Dwight turns off the car and gets out, treading over to the porch steps.

"Hey," He says without looking at me.

"Hi," I flicker my cigarette, "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

I open the front door and we go inside. "You seem a little...I don't know, upset or something."

"Sherry's been a little on edge since we got back," Dwight hangs his jacket up, "I've kind of been walking on eggshells the last couple of days."

"Oh, is it still about Tina?"

"Yeah, she's pissed that I didn't back her up on TIna coming to stay with us," He explains, "But Tina's twenty-one, she can make her own decisions and she wanted to stay in D.C."

"Well, look at you, standing up to your big bad wife." I chuckle, before I get a look at his sober face. "I'm kidding."

"I know." He nods, clearly bothered.

"Dwight, I didn't mean to upset you," I clarify, "I wasn't saying anything bad about her, I-"

"It's fine, Pippa," Dwight sighs, "I'm just...tired. It's been a long week."

"Okay," I nod my head, "Should we go to my room?"

"Yeah."

The two of quietly pad past Jolyon's room and down the hall to my bedroom. I turn on the light and go to the bed, where I take off my clothes. I peer over my shoulder at him undressing a pace behind me. Once naked, I lift back the covers and slip underneath. I prop my head up in my hand, watching him come over in just his boxers.

"I love you." I tell him, as he climbs into bed.

"I love you, too." Dwight puts his hand on my face as he leans in to kiss me.

I become easily ensnared by his warmth and the vitality of how much he wants me when he tangles his body into mine. One of his hands reaches under the covers and touches all over my flesh. I push back a little at his fervor, breaking from his kiss.

"Dwight, wait."

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing," I smile at him, "Nothing's wrong."

Dwight's brows furrow. "What is is?"

"I just thought maybe we could go slow." I delicately move some hair out of his face. "It always seems like we're running a race."

"Well…" He looks down at the comforter.

I sigh. "Forget it. Just...open the condom."

"No, we…" He moves away a little, "We can slow down, if you want."

"You don't want to," I touch his arm, "It's fine, we can-"

"No, no," Dwight takes my hand, exhaling, "we'll go slow."

I suddenly feel so embarrassed and ashamed because of him that I get up. "I have to pee."

When I get into the bathroom, I nearly shut the door all the way. I open up my medicine cabinet and then curse, before getting down to check under the sink. Damn it. Negan really did find my stashed booze. I flush the toilet and turn the water on to make like I actually used the bathroom. I walk out and get back into the bed.

Dwight watches me, quietly uncertain. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." I nod.

"I...I'm sorry."

I look at him. "It's okay."

"I didn't know you felt like that," He put his hand on my hip, "You should've told me sooner."

"Tch, Dwight, I like how we do things, but sometimes I'd like to savoured, instead of devoured, you know?"

He nods his head. "Yeah, okay."

He kisses me more gently, shyly. I touch his face and smile, letting him gingerly pepper my mouth, my jawline, and my neck with kinder affection. My hands take time to explore his skin under the blankets. Dwight shifts over me, but it's only so he can travel his lips down my body. I observe as he places his mouth down my neck to my breasts, then in an aimless trail down my belly.

I move under him as he gets just before the meeting of my thighs, because an ache rolls between my legs. I moan with my mouth closed, which makes him look up at me. Dwight's eyes scan my face, then briefly flicker to where he had stopped. He then glances back to me, as if asking if I want him to. With a shallowing breath, I nod my head. He nods back and then continues to softly kiss my body.

…

He moves off of me, panting after he finally came. I roll over to lay my head and hand down on his virile chest.

"That was...incredible." I chuckle as I catch my breath.

"...Yeah?" He twirls a curl around his finger.

"Yeah," I tilt my head up and his cheek, "You really know what you're doing down there, eh?"

He breaks out in a laugh. "Good to know."

"You must have had a lot of practice." I fiddle with the trail of hair below his navel.

"Mm, not really." He shakes his head against the pillow.

"You and Sherry never-"

"I don't want to talk about Sherry, Pippa."

"Sorry," I sigh, "I just assumed that you...nevermind."

Now, Dwight sighs. "What?"

"Nothing, I don't want to argue."

"Just say what you're gonna say." He irritably eggs.

"Fine," I slightly lean away, "I was just going to say that I'm surprised to hear you say that because, you're...good. I mean, how the hell are you so bomb at going down, if you don't do it from time to time, huh?"

Dwight can't help but chuckle. "Well, I don't, so I don't know what to tell you."

"You've never done it before now?"

"...No, I have."

"When's the last time you did?"

"Why do you want to have this conversation?"

I shrug, as he brings his arm around me. I guess I should remember that I'm with him and not with Negan right now. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I'm with him,but Dwight isn't like Negan. Negan brags about having sex with his wife, probably because he doesn't get to as often as he'd like you to think, and has no shame about talking to me about it. Dwight has a conscience, so he prefers not to talk about his wife with the woman he's cheating on her with and I can respect that.

"Nevermind." I smile at him.

Dwight moves a strand from my face. "I did it twice before."

"You don't have to, D."

He smiles back at me, before sighing and looking forward. "The first time was when we were nineteen. About a year or so after we married."

I just look up at him, listening, and trying to ignore the bit of hurt I feel. He shifts down a little into the covers, reaching his other arm over to me, until I'm engulfed.

"I was trying to figure out how to fix the dishwasher," He continues, "She came in to see how I was doing and we were talking about...nothing and then she was telling me about how her coworker was telling her about how her husband took her to someplace, I can't remember where, for their anniversary."

"Mhm."

"And...she told Sherry that her husband did something that he only did four times a year."

"Only four?" I giggle and it makes him snicker.

"Anyway," He says, "I asked her what that was and she told me." Dwight smiles fondly. "I remember feeling my face turn red when she told me. She was embarrassed, too. She played it off like she thought it was disgusting."

"But?"

"But then she asked if I ever did it before." My eyes glance up at him and he looks down, knowing exactly why I've moved my eyes on him. "I told her the truth; that I hadn't. She asked if I wanted to try it. I asked if she wanted me to and she said yes. So, she got up on the counter."

"Boy, that either sounds like a sweet story of young marriage, or the script for a porno." I flatly sigh. Either way, it's made me a little hot, much to my own frustration.

"I was nervous, but she...seemed to like it, so I kept going," Dwight adds, "But when it was over, she just left the kitchen and didn't say anything about it after."

I try to quell the feeling below, because it makes me feel like a horndog, or Negan. "She didn't like it."

"She did," His thumb caresses my arm, "She asked me to do it again a few weeks later, on her birthday."

I close my eyes. "Oh."

"After that, she said it made her feel dirty afterwards. She was raised kind of prudent and conservative. She prayed for forgiveness before she went to bed that night."

"I didn't know she was so religious." I knit my brows.

"She's not, but when she feels she's in need, she prays."

I nod my head. "Did you feel dirty afterwards?"

"Um, no, I just felt bad I made her feel that way," Dwight replies, "She said not to, because she asked me to do it, but we don't talk about it. We only do what's she comfortable with. I don't mind; I love her."

I faintly grin. "You're a good husband."

His smile diminishes. "No, I'm not."

"Dwight…" I sit up, peering down at him, "I know you think-"

"I'm not a husband, Pip," He interrupts somberly, "I'm cheating on my wife and she doesn't deserve it."

"No one deserves it," I lift my leg over, until I'm on top of him.

"Then why am I doing it?" He asks me as he hand touches the side of my thigh.

My eyes fix to the wall, as I try to find out for him. "Because you love me?"

"I do love you," D croaks, "But it's not fair to her. You and I...we broke up thirteen years ago. We were kids. I've been her longer than I had been with you."

"Thanks, Dwight." I scoff, getting off him.

"I love you, Pippa," Dwight sits up on his side, "I've always loved you, but that doesn't mean I can just run around with you like use to. Things are different."

"So, what?" I chuckle bitterly. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

"I...I want to, but I know that I shouldn't."

"Well, then, I guess I'll see you around town now and then."

"Pippa, I…"

"Just go,D," I look straight at him, "I understand. I'm not gonna tell you to go against your conscience."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It's my fault," I clear my throat, "I shouldn't have allowed myself to be so thrilled by you...because of what we had in the past. Chasing ghosts, right?"

"Please, don't be upset."

"I'm not," I fake a smile, "I'm happy you know what you want. Even if it isn't me."

…

"Mommy, your phone's ringing." Jolyon holds out my cellphone to me.

I take it, look at the name, silence it, and then stick on the nightstand. "Thanks, baby."

"You're not feeling well?"

"No, babe, I'm not," I scooch over, "Come lay with me for a little while."

"Okay." He climbs on the bed and wiggles himself under the blankets, cuddling up next to me. His small hands touch each side of my face. "How come you're sad, Mom?"

"I'm not sad."

"Then how come you're crying?"

"Because I'm not feeling well."

Jolyon pets my head, before laying his head down on my pillow. I close my eyes breathe. I did a bad thing last night. I'm not talking about how I let Dwight screw one last time before he left, or that I let him screw me at all. After he left, I did exactly what I told Negan I wasn't going to do. I pack up Jolyon, who stayed asleep the entire time, and went to the liquor store three miles from my house. I then got piss drunk as soon as I got home.

I think he means it. Dwight. I don't think he's going to see me again after last night. My phone buzzes against, which makes Jolyon stir.

"No, leave it, baby," I murmur with my eyes still shut, "Just let it go to voicemail."

Jolyon gets up to go play after he wakes up thirty minutes later, while I just sort fade in and out all day. I don't get out of bed, until I hear a banging on my door that is accompanied by my phone vibrating against my table.

"Mommy!" Jolyon runs in to my room.

"Yeah, yeah," I groan, slipping out of bed, "I hear it." I march through my house, until I make it to the front door, where I flip open the door. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Hi!" Jolyon happily shouts.

Negan smiles. "Hey, kid," He then directs his then not so nice eyes to me, "Why the fuck haven't you picked up all day and how come you didn't fucking come to work?"

"I called the office first thing," I stroll into my kitchen, assuming he's going to come in, "They got a sub."

"You sick?" He asks, skeptical.

"Yeah, I think I caught what Jol had." I fill a glass with some water.

"You fucking liar," Negan scoffs, "What kind of shit for brains do you take me for?"

"A tall, dark, handsome shit for brains." I retort.

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm hungover."

"I thought that's what you fuckin' called me for?"

I sigh heavily, "Yeah, well, it didn't work."

"You really are piece of work, aren't you?"

"Well, I never promised I wouldn't be hard work."

Negan chuckles, "Fair enough."

"Can I get you anything?" I fold my arms, leaning back on the counter.

"I just came down to check on you," He opens my fridge, "You did say you'd see me at work last night."

"And I'm not allowed to call in sick?"

"Sick and hungover are two totally fucking different things."

"Then why do they feel the same?" I smirk. "So, you came all this way to check in on us?"

"I wanted to make sure the kid was alright."

"Well, he is, thanks for accusing me of neglect."

Negan pulls back the tab of a soda. "I didn't, but if you wanna confess."

"Shut the fuck up," I laugh, "I got up and fed him breakfast and lunch and I was just about to give the Thai take out a ring."

"Where's your World's Best Mom mug?" He huskily chuckles, strolling over to me.

"It's in the dishwasher," I put a hand out his arm, "I'm not kissing you."

"Because you've puked your fuckin' brains out and haven't brushed your teeth?"

"Oh, I wouldn't let a small thing like that stop me," I playfully jest, "It's because Jolyon's right there in the living room."

"So, let's move out of sight." He suggests, low. "Maybe...your room?"

"Oh, you think that might be a good place?" I giggle, "You think he wouldn't be able to see us?"

"I know so," Negan leans down.

I turn my cheek. "You should go home, tiger."

He sighs, lowering his head. "Yeah, I probably should."

"Thanks again."

"So, what made you fall off the wagon?"

My smile wanes. "Stupid hope for the past."

* * *

 **A little late, but the site was having problems last night and I had an early morning shift this morning, so...anyway, hope you all enjoy!**

 **CLTex: Yeah, Dwight doesn't appear to hold the same intense feelings that Pippa does, even if he loves her and wants to be with her. He's obviously not as shameless as Negan, so he's a little removed from the sweet/humorous side of adultery (not that there is one, realistically, but you know what I mean). Glad you liked Lourdes' side of things! Their affair is def gonna be more and more interesting as it's unraveled.**

 **StTudnoBright: Well, Negan is pushy and totally lacks basic boundaries, so yeah, he's definitely putting himself in her life more. And yeah, lol, I think children talking about sex (even though its completely innocent and naïve) is so cringe worthy lol! As for Negan's crying, I did think that Lucille would be his Achilles heel.**


	30. Chapter 30

While I thought I was going to finish up grading some papers, Jolyon reminded me on the way home that tomorrow's Valentine's Day and that he needs to make some cards for his classmates. So instead, I hold his hand as it holds a pen and work with him to write out thirty odd cards. After that, my hand feels a little crampy, so I resolve to do it later. We watch some T.V. after dinner, until his bath and then bedtime. When he's all tucked in, falling fast asleep to the soft sound of me reading to him, I go outside for a smoke.

Eugene, Jolyon's dad, didn't ask to speak to me when they spoke on the phone on our way home. It's not like we chat it up with each other on a regular basis, but he often asks Jolyon to hand me the phone, so he can ask how I'm doing. Whatever, it doesn't matter to me. Maybe it's his new year's resolution not to get his head bitten off by me every time we talk. Good for him.

Negan asked about him today after work, while we were momentarily alone in the break room, before I went to pick up Jolyon. He asked after I told him that Jolyon wanted to call his dad to inquire about something he evidently thinks I'm incapable of answering, or looking up on the internet. It might be just an excuse to call him. Negan wanted to know what kind of guy he was, but I ran my hand over his crotch and he magically forgot to press me to answer. He's not as sharp as he thinks he is, if all it takes to derail him is touching his wedding tackle. I might have done more than just touch it, if it weren't for Diane coming into the break room. Still, there wasn't enough blood going to Negan's head to remind him that I evaded talking about Eugene. Weak.

My phone buzzes next to me on my porch step. I pick it up, look at the name on the screen, and then immediately set it down. I continue to smoke as the phone vibrates over and over and over and over again, until it finally stops. I exhale in what I wanted to be relief, but in truth, I think I'm a little near tears. Tears over the consequences of not picking up, while also trying to convince myself it's for the better. The phone moves once more to alert me of a voicemail.

I take it up again and glance at the notification. It can't hurt to listen to it, right? No, I better not. Not after our last encounter two weeks ago. We had sex, amazing sex, and then he told me he couldn't be with me anymore. And then he had kissed me, one thing led to another, and before I know it, we were having sex one more time, and then he left. And I let him. If he wants to end things, then I'm gonna help him do that. At least I can rest assured that he won't screw around with anyone else.

 **...**

Today is Valentine's Day. The school halls are lively with sweethearts giving each other little valentines, small things of carnations, and those gross, chalky conversation hearts that will most likely be crushed up on the floor for the next few days. Frankly, I couldn't give a flying fuck about this baloney holiday. It's stupid and tacky. If anything, it's perfect for teenagers. They like all that lovey dovey, irrational Romeo and Juliet shit. Especially the melodramatic crying in the bathroom stalls when they're disappointed by expectations being thwarted by reality.

I know what you're thinking; I'm just some bitter single lady with a kid, who's just bellyaching about how stupid this day is only because I don't have a "valentine" to spend it with. But I've always thought it was a dumb day, even when I had a sweetheart; when I was someone's sweetheart. Dwight and I never were googoo -gaga eyes over each other. Like I said before, we were sweet, but serious and therefore grounded in our love. It was something we knew was concrete and would withstand high school. I didn't need a bouquet of flowers, or a cheap teddy bear to make me feel like Dwight really loved me. Now that I'm adult, I especially don't want any of that mushy, sappy crap that's wrapped in red cellophane and obligatorily bought on the way home in haste.

On the flip side, I will come into company of sugary snacks a plenty. Either from students, or the staff break room, I'll be well endowed with cookies, cupcakes, and other things that some of my coworkers are forcing themselves to avoid. I don't have anyone to impress in lingerie tonight, so I'm not shy. My night will likely involve oh-ing and aw-ing over all the little valentine things that Jolyon will surely shove into my face with excitement and ordering take out.

"Hey!" Lourdes comes into the break room this morning. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Thanks. You, too." I stir a little wooden stick into the toxic sewage that is our coffee.

"Got any plans tonight?"

"Nope," I shake my head, "Yourself?"

"Well, Simon's not really the Valentine's Day kind of guy, but he did say we could go to lunch and I'm sure we'll have a good night at home."

I smile at her. "Sounds nice."

"You hanging out with the baby?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't call him a baby," I chuckle, "He's very adamant about not being called 'baby' lately now that he's going to be four on Saturday."

Lourdes gushes, putting her hand over her heart. "Aw! I don't want him to grow up yet!"

"I know."

"Is your sister coming down for the party?"

"I don't know," I flatly say, "She hasn't returned my calls. If anything, she'll have my parents come get the kids."

"Sorry, Pip," She glances at the pink sprinkled donuts on one of the tables, "I hope she'll come around soon."

"I doubt she'll come around to my cavorting around with married men." I wryly chuckle, following her gaze. "Pass it a note, or eat it, Lour."

"Split it with me?"

I roll my eyes. "You look great. Just eat it."

"Okay." She walks herself over to the table. "Want one?"

"Yeah, sure." I accept the donut.

Negan walks into the break room, but doesn't say anything to either of us, which is out of the ordinary. He has a look of being tired, or irked as he goes over to the coffee pot. Lourdes and I share confused looks as we chewed our donuts. She just shrugs, before leaving without a word to avoid talking to him. I eat my donut and wait for him to turn around. He takes a drink of the coffee, before instantly spitting it back to his cup and tossing it in the trash.

"Fucking disgusting shit sludge." He curses.

"Hey, that's no way to talk about yourself."

"Funny." He scoffs.

"I thought so," I wipe the frosting from my upper lip, "What's up your ass?"

"Nothing," He shakes his head, "Just some bad news."

I look at him in mild concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, real fuckin swell."

"What is it?"

Negan glances me over. "Change in fucking plans."

"Aw, did Lucille cancel on you?" I lightly joke.

He doesn't laugh back. The bell rings which is perfect timing for me, because I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable. I finish my donut and head towards the door.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You got lunch plans?"

I look back at him. "I do now."

 **...**

When lunch time rolls around, I make my way to Negan's office. One of my students hands me a box of conversation hearts on the way, which I kindly accept, even though I don't really like them. I also pass Ravinder's sister, Nanda and her friends in the hall. They look over at me briefly, before giggling and snickering below their breaths and behind their hands. I have a feeling that they're the culprits behind my tire being slashed a few weeks ago. At the time, I couldn't think of who would do that, but then I remembered later on that I did give them detention a couple of days prior for once again picking on Ravinder. Since I have no evidence that they did it, I have no choice but to let it slide for now.

I open Negan's door without knocking and find the room vacant. He's probably just straightening up the gym, or something, so I just wait inside with the door closed. I toss the conversation hearts onto his desk and go over to that little space heater of his, because it's cold as fuck in here. Next, I go over to the window that oversees the hall, along with the entrances of the locker rooms and close the blinds.

A smile inches up onto my face as an idea blossoms in my head. I take off my thick cardigan and then reach down to the hem of my dress, lifting over my head until it's off and inside out. That little space heater does a fine job of warming things up in here in no time. I kick out of my clogs and peel my panty hose from my bottom half. I planned on being naked by time he came in, but I only get down to my bra and panties when the door opens.

"Hi." I say, a little glad it was him and not somebody else that could've wandered in.

Negan's eyes move from my toes to my head. "Hello."

"Could you go back and wait outside for a moment?" I shoo him with the back of my hand, "I'm not done."

"Not done?" He walks over to his desk chair, "Not done doing what?"

"Getting naked."

He chuckles under his breath. "Well, don't let me fuckin' stop you."

I pad to his desk. "I was trying to cheer you up."

"Consider my spirits fuckin' lifted, among something else."

"You seem pissed."

"I am," Negan touches my hips as I pass, "But not with you. How could I possibly be pissed at a naked woman in my office?"

"Phew," I mockingly wipe my forehead, "I was a little worried for a moment."

"Those for me?" He points a finger towards his desk.

I look behind me and see the box of hearts. "You mean these dumb little candies that are gross as shit?" I toss him his way. "Sure."

Negan catches them, snickering. "You're makin' me look like an asshole for not getting you something."

"Please, you can do that all by yourself."

He opens the box, pinching one of the hearts. "Kiss Me."

"You kiss me." I smirk, sitting myself up on the desk.

Negan eats the green heart, before standing up to oblige. "Your turn."

"My turn?" I peer down at the box he's holding out to me. "I don't like 'em."

"So, I'll eat 'em," He kisses me more wantonly, "Take one."

I exhale, plucking a pink one out. "Fine, but this is stupid."

"What's it say?" His hand encourages me closer. "Fuck Me?"

I chuckle against his dirty mouth. "I think it says I have a headache," I take the moment to read it, "It says; 'I'm Yours.'" I snort, "Yeah fucking right."

"I wouldn't be too fuckin' sure, sweet cheeks," Negan feels for the hooks of my bra, "You're always so ready whenever I'm around. I'm thinking about nicknaming you slick."

I scoff, holding my bra to my chest. "Oh, you'll only have to call me that once."

"To make you wet?" He cockily chews the heart he took from me.

"To meet an early grave."

"Oh, death by getting my brains fucked out?" Negan shakes another into his hand, "I can't think of a better fuckin' way to go."

I can't help but laugh. "That sounds awful."

"I wouldn't mind my dick breaking off in you." He looks down at the candy. "And then you using it on your own."

"You're a fucking degenerate!" I push him. "Who raised you?"

Negan breathes out a laugh, before holding up the heart. "It says; 'Take off your drawers.'"

"It says; 'XOXO', jerkface."

"Well, take 'em off anyway."

"I don't know, you're really drying up the well, pal." I take a heart. "Mm, here just eat it."

"What's it say?"

"Open wide." I hold it up to his mouth.

"Damn, I was hoping I'd get that one for you." He snickers, then quickly snatches it from my fingers. His eyes study it for a split moment, before they blink up to mine. "I Love You?"

"Yeah," I murmur. I put my hands around my panties, shifting them down from where I sit. "Your turn."

Negan throws the open box on the desk, scattering a few out. He then brings my underwear down to my ankles, lingering our mouths so close to one another in the process. I wait for him to kiss me, but it almost seems like he's waiting for the same thing, as he unbuckles his belt. I finally crash mine against his. He pulls the bra off me and roughly returns the kiss.

I reach down and touch it, making him chuckle into my mouth. We spend a few minutes sucking face, until he's at full mass. He gets into his desk and scrounges up one of those odd condoms, rolling it on while trying not to lose it as I caress my fingers underneath. Negan takes hold of each of my thighs and pulls me as close as he can, driving his cock in me with one good try.

 **...**

"Oh, yeah," My hands moves up his warm, muscular back, "That's it." My body tenses up and I'm silent for a moment, before I breathe again, chuckling. "That's how you finish."

Negan's hot panting breaks out into laughter against my flesh. "Fuck, Pip. You really know how to turn someone's day around."

I run my fingers alongside his hair, laughing myself. "Well, I needed a little pick-me-up."

"Yeah, you and me both." He tosses the condom and sits back into his chair, as he assembles himself.

I playfully tap my foot to his knee. "What's got your dick in a knot?"

"Lucille's folks are coming tonight." He opens a drawer of his desk. "We had to cancel our dinner reservations and you can bet your ass we're skipping everything else."

"Oh," I pull my panties back up, "Was it an unexpected visit?"

"What the fuck do you think?" Negan gives me a look. "Our anniversary is on Sunday and they want to take us to dinner."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah, well, you haven't met them."

"How come they're staying for four days?"

"four days and five fucking nights," He gripes, "And that's what I fucking asked, but that just lead to a fight."

I chuckle with a shred of sympathy. "I guess you won't be _really_ celebrating your anniversary either with them in your guest room, huh?"

"Don't fuckin' remind me."

"Oh, come on!" I laugh heartily, "I'm sure it won't be that bad, you big baby!"

Negan smiles, cracking up at my humor. "You have no fuckin' idea, you dick." He draws himself over to his desk where I sit. "They're such assholes."

"Aw, do they pick on you?" I softly joke.

He snickers as he rests his head in my lap and trails his hands around my legs. He then sighs, "I never can fucking do anything right by those stuck-up pricks."

I run a caring hand over his hair. "Well, I can't imagine you make it easy for them to like you."

"We've been married for twenty-two years," Negan breathes against my thighs, "You'd think I would've grown on them at least once."

I knit my brows a little. "Wow, you really want to, don't you?"

"Contrary to your opinion, I'm sure, I am a very fuckin' likable guy."

"You're right, I do disagree with you."

He laughs. "Well, they make it crystal fuckin' clear that Lu could do a hell of a lot better than me."

"Doesn't seem like it matters to Lucille."

"Nah, she's never been one to ask for anyone's approval."

"Seems like it," I murmur, looking up at the clock, "Maybe you should tell them to lay off."

"I have a few times, or started to..." He breathes frustratingly through of his nose.

"But she stopped you?"

"Yeah," Negan sits up and reclines in his desk chair, "Put my nuts in a jar every fucking time."

"So, I don't suppose you could maybe talk to her about talking to them?" I smile, genuine. "I mean, she should tell them, if you can't."

His easy expression milds a little. "Yeah, well, I bet if I gave her a reason to want to defend me, she would, but I can't say that I have."

A sudden fear comes over me. It's like a sharp deja vu. A remembrance of two weeks ago, when Dwight and I had sex and then he said he couldn't see me anymore, because I reminded him that he had a lovely wife.

I fix my bra. "I can't stay after work. I have to go to the store to pick up some things for Jolyon's party Saturday."

"Oh, yeah, he's turning four, right?"

"Yeah," I smile forlornly, "Four going on fourteen."

"You gettin' all teary-eyed over a fourth birthday?"

"He's been so 'I can do it myself' lately," I confess, "I don't know why it's bothering me so much, but it is."

You want to be needed," He tells me, "But your boy has to grown up sometime. Mommy can't kiss and make _everything_ better."

"What do you know?"

"I work with kids," Negan puts his hands behind his head, "So, I've seen my fair share of hot moms coddling their kids; turning them into crybabies, or little assholes."

"Jolyon's not gonna be either," I sigh, "He's gonna be a good kid, who...will probably be taking care of me soon enough."

"Mop up your act and he won't have to."

"Thanks, Coach."

"Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

I furrow my brows. "I didn't invite you."

"No, you rude bitch," Negan laughs, "Jolyon did. The other day when I watched him for you in the gym."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't have let you in anyway." I reach over to the chair behind me on the other side of the desk for my dress.

"Is your other _very good_ friend gonna be there?"

I snicker, shaking my head. "No, he's not. I actually haven't seen, or spoken to him in about two weeks."

"Is that so?" Negan scoots his chair closer.

"It is."

"Why?"

"What's it to you?"

"I'm nosy."

"You're competitive," I giggle, before sighing, "We...had a talk and it resulted in him deciding not cheat on his wife anymore."

"Bummer," Negan grins, obviously glad to hear it, "For you anyway."

"Dick."

"Stick around after work, I'll show you a dick."

"That's grounds for me filing a report against you," I tease, "And I just told you I have to go to the grocery store for cake mix and other party crap."

"Cake mix?" Negan scoffs, "Aren't you supposed to have one made at the fuckin' bakery or some shit?"

"What's wrong with making one at home?"

"The box mix tastes like shit compared to the alternative."

"Well, it's gonna be a pretty big party and I can't afford a cake that can serve everyone."

"So, you think a box of cake mix will do the trick?" Negan reaches his hand into his back pocket.

"Two or three boxes."

"Here." Negan extends some folded bills my way.

"What's this?" I take the money and unfold it. Two twenties and a ten. "Fifty bucks?"

"Get your kid a real cake."

I glance down at the money between my fingers. "I..."

"Don't know what to say?" He smirks, "How about a thank you?"

I shake my head. "No, I can't accept this."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because, I can't."

"Elaborate."

"I don't want to borrow money from someone I'm...involved with," I hold it out for him to take back, "Kind of seems like something I'd owe you for."

"What? You think I'm gonna make you pay me back?"

"Well, you are the sort of guy that would hold it over my head."

"Fuck you," Negan laughs, "Can't a guy help his very good friend out?"

"Okay, no," I throw the money onto his lap, before pushing myself off the desk, "You definitely can't, so thanks, but no thanks."

"Oh, come on," He stretches out his leg, putting his foot to the desk, "It's not like you're getting any help from that deadbeat asshole in Texas."

I look at him. "What the fuck do you know about Jolyon's dad?"

"Well, I-"

"Nothing," I sharply inform him, "You know nothing, so shut the fuck up."

"He doesn't pay child support, he only calls when it suits him, and he terminated his parental rights, but still wants to fucking poke around when it's fucking convenient," Negan adds, which just pisses me off, "Seems like a deadbeat needle dick, if I've ever fuckin' heard of one."

"Well, you don't know him, or the situation, so once again; shut the fuck up," I hotly retort, "And I don't need any handouts. Move, so I can leave."

"Take the fifty bucks."

"No."

I attempt to climb over his leg to make my exit. However, as soon as I'm one leg over, Negan abruptly stands in a way that puts his leg right between mine. He towers over me, as I'm nearly pinned to the desk. If this weren't Negan and he wasn't trying to hold in a prickish snicker, I would knee him right in the nads and be on my way. But, because it is Negan, I have to confess I'm a little turned on.

"Take the money and I'll move."

"And if I don't?" I purr with my brow cocked. I move my hand alongside his leg, traveling towards the center. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna bend you over my desk and you're gonna have to explain to your students why you're late for fifth period."

"Oh, I think they'll be able to tell when I can't walk a straight line."

He throatily chuckles. "They'll probably just think you've had too much to drink again."

"You are such an ass!" I laugh, right before he crashes his mouth on mine. I put my arms on his shoulder blades, moaning as he leans forward. "You think we have time?"

"Ten minutes."

"Well, then what are we doing having a full blown heart-to-heart for?" I joke, which makes us both smile. "Bend me over, champ."

Negan cackles, before kissing me and turning me around. I lift up my dress and soon after I hear him laugh some more.

"What?"

"You've got a heart stuck on your ass."

I reach around to try to get it, but I can't find it. Negan's fingers comb over my panty clothed butt, traipsing down to the part of my leg that's just below my left cheek. He plucks the candy off, giving me a playful, unexpected slap on the ass.

"What's it say?" I inquire.

"Says; 'Be Mine.'"

 **...**

"So, it'll be ready around ten?"

"Ten o'clock, Saturday morning!" The baker girl smiles from over the counter.

"Okay, great," I hand her the order form, "Have a good night."

"You do the same."

"I thought you said we were making a cake?" Jolyon says by the side of the grocery cart, since he now "too old" to sit in it.

"Well, this will be easier, don't you think?" I push the cart out of the bakery area and towards the milk.

"Mm, yeah," He glances down random aisles we pass, "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I told Negan to come to my party."

"I know, he told me." I shiver as the fridge door sends a freezing chill of air my way.

"Can he come?"

"Uh, no," I quickly grab a gallon of whole milk, "He's got some company coming over to his house and so he won't be able to make it."

"Aw!"

"I know, I know." I chuckle. We walk in silence for a few seconds as he finishes pouting.

"Is Lourdes gonna come?"

"I think so."

"And Cleo, too?"

"No, baby, the dog has to stay home," I tell him, grabbing a box of candles, "We have a cat remember?"

"I'm not a baby, Mom!"

"Oops, sorry, Jol."

After we go to the grocery store, I need to stop off at the pharmacy to pick up my refill of birth control. I don't know what it is about pharmacies that give Jolyon wanderlust, but boy does it make it an ordeal to take him in there.

"C'mon, we have to get in line." I put my hand out.

"I want to smell the shampoo!"

"In a second, c'mon on!"

We stand in line for only about five minutes, but it drives him bananas. His little head keeps whipping to and fro, scouring the store for god knows what he'll find randomly fascinating. When I get up to the counter, the pharmacist takes a look at her computer after I tell her who I am and what I'm here for.

"Your order's not ready yet," She informs me, "We got a little behind schedule today. It'll be about fifteen minutes."

"Okay, no problem," I look down at Jolyon as we walk away, "Let's go check out the shampoo."

"Yes!"

The two of us peruse the aisles for a little while and I let the Jolyon smell some of the shampoos. I stupidly ask if I can buy cigarettes up at the register to a passing employee. She gives me look of confusion and disbelief, before telling me that they don't sell cigarettes at the pharmacy, because they're bad for you. Okay, I guess that makes sense, but then why the hell do they sell alcohol? There's a little mart across the street, so Jolyon and I walk over in the cold, winter night.

Jolyon wants to browse around, but I know he's really interested in the candy. "Just one!"

"Jolyon, you are gonna have birthday cake in three days," I reply, "You don't need any sugar until then."

"What about Cheetos?"

"N-" Well, those actually do sound good, "Okay, but just a small bag."

The door of the convenient store rings as another customer comes in.

"Jol, hurry up!"

"Hi!" He responds, but not to me.

I turn around to see who he's talking to. Of all the fucking gas station mini-marts, why did he have to come to this one? Does the universe hate me? Who set it up this torment?

"Mommy, it's Dwight!" Jolyon runs up to me with a little bag of chips.

"I can see that," I put the Cheetos up on the counter, before looking meeting Dwight's eyes, "Uh, hi."

"Hey," He awkwardly greets back as he treads his way to the register.

"That'll be eight dollars and thirty-five cents." The cashier tells me.

"Oh, okay, here ya go." I hand him a ten.

"Here's your change."

"Thanks," I turn back to Dwight, "I'll, uh, see you later."

"Yeah."

I peer over to my son. "Jol, put your mittens and hat on."

"I can't eat Cheetos with my mittens!"

"Well, then you'll have to wait," I retort, "We've got to walk back across the street."

"It's too cold outside!" He whines back.

"I know, but our car's still across the street."

"Will you carry me?"

"Jol, it's kind of hard to carry you in the snow." I put his mittens on for his hands.

"Please!" He begs, "It's too cold to walk, Mom!"

I bring his beanie down snugly onto his head. "I know, but-"

"You going to the pharmacy?" Dwight asks behind me.

I see him approaching us, as he walks from the register with his own pack of cigarettes. "Yeah, I was waiting for a prescription."

"I could take you after I fill up."

"No, that's okay."

"I've gotta over there anyway," Dwight claims, "Sher needs me to pick something up."

"Oh, no-"

"Please, Mom?" Jolyon tugs my hand.

I exhale, "Yeah, okay."

Since Dwight obviously doesn't have a car seat, I buckle Jolyon and myself in the back. Technically, I could've sat up front like I stupidly did that time I was in a similar situation with Negan, but everything in my head is telling me not to be that close to Dwight.

"Mama, I'm tired."

I serene, tender smile radiates on my face, as I lovingly fiddle with his curls. "You are?"

"Yeah," He yawns, "Can we go home soon?"

"Definitely." I pat his head as he rests it on my side.

"Can I sleep in your room?"

"I thought only babies did that?" I tease, since that's what he told me a few days ago.

"Mm, big kids do, too." His fingers aimlessly mess with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Well, alright, I guess if big kids do it, too."

"Can you read me a story?"

"I think that can be arranged."

"You're nice." Jolyon pats my hand.

I chuckle, "I'm nice?"

"Yeah." He simply answers.

I smile even brighter. My eyes aimlessly wander to the rearview mirror, where I instantly find Dwight's looking at me. My smile dwindles, but only a little.

Once we get to the pharmacy, the three of us go in, but Dwight breaks off to go find whatever he was tasked to get. I pay for my pills at the pharmacy counter and then make a swift, quiet exit. I load Jolyon up and smoke, while he eats his chips in the car. Dwight comes out almost five minutes later, apparently not having to get more than one thing.

He looks my way as he heads to his truck. I watch curiously as he tosses the plastic bag he walked out with in the front seat, before shutting the door. He casually walks over, fishing out his cigarettes from his jacket pocket as he does. I could throw down the one in my hand and peel out of here before has time to make it over, but let's be honest, I don't.

"Care if I smoke with you?" He asks.

I shrug my shoulders, inhaling from the end. "Sure."

We just stand there, four feet apart, smoking without conversation. The cold stings my nose and cheeks, but I ignore for the time being. I don't really know what to say right now. We haven't seen or spoken to each other in two weeks. I ignored his phone call Tuesday night. Deleted the voicemail. Is he gonna bring it up?

After standing in nerve-aggravating silence, I peek over. He's staring at me. I furrow my brows. "What?" I ask, defensively.

"Nothing," He looks away.

"Whatever."

"How come you were smiling like that?"

"What?" I knit my brows further, "What are you talking about?"

"In the car," He exhales smoke, "You looked...I don't know, happy when you were talking to him."

"Jolyon?" I take another drag, "Are you asking me why was being maternal?"

"Maybe, I don't know," Dwight clears his throat, "Never mind."

I scoff, blowing smoke. I inspect my fingers that hold the cigarette. "He called me 'Mama.'"

"What?"

"He hasn't called me that in...I don't know how long," I smile to myself, "Whenever he calls me 'Mama' it always so sweet and mild. He's been pretty firm about all the big kid stuff, since his birthday's coming up and...it's just nice to know that he's still my baby. Even if he's turning four."

"When's his birthday?"

"Saturday."

Dwight looks at me. "The seventeenth?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason."

I cough a little. "Well, I thought it'd be pretty obvious why you wouldn't be invited."

"It's not that, smart ass," He huffs, "My grandpa died on the seventeenth."

Shit, now I feel like an ass. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"How long will it be again?" I inquire, "If you don't me asking?"

"...Four years."

A sharp, almost accusatory pain wells up in me. "Oh." I glance into my car to see Jolyon's head drooping as he nods off with the bag of chips still in his hand. "How's Sherry?"

"Good," He nods, "She, uh..." His eyes avert, uneasy.

"She what?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, god, just say it," I groan, "Whatever it is, I think I can fucking handle it, D."

"...She told me she thinks she might be ready to have kids," Dwight divulges, "She wants to start trying."

I just stare, because that's all I can do. Every fiber of my being feels like they're ripping in two, either out of rage, or equivocal despair. To react would make me a liar, or a pitiable poor thing for his eyes to frown at.

"Are you okay?"

I numbly nod my head. "Yeah."

"Pip, I-"

"That's...really good to hear, Dwight." I flick my cigarette, frustrated with myself that I couldn't sound more convincing.

His face scrunches in guilt and he sighs. "We've...talked about it before, but put it off."

"Until now?"

"Yeah." He mouths.

I scoff, "Perfect timing."

"Pippa, don't...don't be like that."

"Be like what?" I shrug in question, digging in my purse for my keys. "I'm glad that you are...finally gonna have a kid...with her."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"Why? We're nothing to do with one another anymore."

"Because it clearly upset you."

"I'm not upset!" I yell, opening my car door, "Best of fucking luck and good luck fucking."

"Pippa, wait!"

"I have to go home."

"Pip, I-"

"I don't need this, Dwight," I bitterly chuckle, "I don't need to be patronized by you, or anyone else for that matter! You know, I...I have someone who would who would never drag me through it like you and-"

"What do you mean someone else?" He interrupts.

I suddenly feel like I've been caught cheating on him, which is ridiculous. "I...I've been seeing someone. Someone from work."

Dwight's brows scrunch to the middle. "You've been seeing someone else?"

"Yeah, I have," I fold my arms, "And to be honest, Dwight, he treats me a lot better than you do." Never mind the fact that he's also a married man.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"He doesn't..." I lower my voice as some people walk out of the pharmacy, "He doesn't treat me like I'm just some pit stop on his way home."

Dwight's eyes look at the ground. "You invited me over. Asked me to come."

"Yeah, because I wanted to be with you, but I didn't realize you were gonna fuck me, put it back in your pants, and then go."

"What did you want me to spend the night?" He scoffs, "I'm married!"

"Yeah, I know, you never forget to remind me!" I'm so angry, fuming, all of the sudden and I don't how I got this point so quickly. "I get it, alright? You and Sherry are- are soulmates and our relationship as just some school fling!"

"I didn't-"

"You said we were kids!" I raise my voice over his. "You made it seem like it was nothing and it wasn't nothing! I remember! It wasn't nothing!"

"I didn't say it was nothing!"

"No, but you trivialized it! Made it this small thing, this...little flame that you can just blow out like a birthday candle whenever I get too close."

"Pippa, calm-"

"No, I will not calm down!" I point my furious finger at him to shut up. "I am not done!"

Dwight's lips come to close.

"Everything I went through all those years ago...my life fell to hell and you got married. How dare you, Dwight Rollins. How dare you shrink me and the past, just so you can live in your little gingerbread house with your wife who leaves you notes everywhere like you're a goddamn child!"

"Don't fucking bring Sherry into this!" He growls. "She hasn't said a fucking word about you, so don't go dragging her through the mud, because you're pissed at me."

"Oh, please," I roll my eyes, "I'm not dragging Sherry. I'm dragging you."

"Why?" He shrugs, "Because I moved on like a regular person?"

"Don't fucking make me out to be this crazy ex-girlfriend," I retort, "I'm dragging you because you're a gutless coward."

"Oh, really?" Dwight takes a stressed drag from his cigarette. "How the fuck do you figure that?"

"Because you aren't as happy as you think you are," I answer plainly, "I think you really do love her, but I don't think that whatever made you love her in the first place is there anymore."

"And how would you fucking know that?" He looks me over. "You don't know a damn thing about my marriage."

"I know that you've played 'yes, dear' to whatever she wants, or doesn't want, because you think that's what you're supposed to do for someone you love. Give without getting back. You've built a life of making sure she's happy that you sacrifice your own sometimes and are too nice to ask for the same amount of effort. And I know you don't remember things about your marriage, because you've lived on autopilot for thirteen years."

Dwight's eyes scan my face. "You're wrong."

"No, I'm not," I swiftly deny, "I'm not and you know it. Are you honestly telling me you've got that a shitty memory? Fuck, you remembered in detail what I said to you when we were in the second grade." I forlornly exhale, my shoulders following the movement, "Maybe you don't love me as much as you use to, or as much as I always have. That's fair, I guess. I can't expect you to hold onto shit forever. But, I know that some of what I said has to be true, because every time you're with me I can feel it. The way you touch me, kiss me...how you eat me up every time we have sex. It's because you're using me to relieve every fucking thing you've repressed all these years."

"I love Sherry," He declares, "And I'm not repressing shit. Look, whatever the fuck we were doing was wrong. Plain and simple. I...I made a mistake. I hadn't see you in years and I thought it felt good to be with you and it did, but I couldn't ever block out of my head how wrong it was. Look, I love you, Pippa, but being you is wrong."

The blow is so dense and agonizing, I take a breathless shift in my footing. "Okay," I croak, feeling bile roll up my throat, "Well, then good luck with your...your little righteous marriage."

"Yeah," D scoffs, wryly. "Thanks."

"I always thought you'd be a good father, Dwight," My words and look stop him in his tracks, "I hope you finally get the chance."

He doesn't say anything more. The cigarette barely hangs from in between his fingers. I know I've wounded him as much as I've snagged myself. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

I get into the Jeep and turn the car on. As I pull away, my headlights illuminate the left half of his face. Jolyon sleepily exhales through his nose and I try to keep quiet, so I won't wake him up.

"Mama?" He croaks.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm not a baby." He states with a tired whine.

"You're right, sorry."

"Mommy, is Dwight coming to my party?"

I wipe some tears away. "No, he's not."

"Why not?"

"Um, because him and I are not friends anymore."

"Not very good friends?"

"No, not very good friends, either."

"How come?"

"Because we had a fight."

"Are you gonna say you're sorry?" Jolyon crunches on a chip.

"I didn't say anything wrong." I sniff.

"Is he gonna say he's sorry?"

"No, he...didn't say anything wrong, either."

"Then how come you were fighting?"

I sigh, as we stop at the red. "Because sometimes grown ups have to say things to one another that seems mean, but they still have to say it."

"Why?"

"Because it's the truth."

 **...**

Jolyon's party turned out great. Pretty much all of his classmates that rvsped showed up, which has turned my house into a playground. I had to lock Pip up in my room after chasing him outside twice, when the kids forgot to close the slider door to the backyard. Most of the parents just dropped their kids off and I get the sense it was so they would get a break from their unruly children.

Paula, Hannah's mom was going to stay, but one of her older girls had soccer, while the other had a doctor's appointment. "It's a full time job." She smiled brightly as she waved down my porch. She's a nice lady. Has a boring office job where I'm betting there's an inspirational calendar on the wall of her cubicle and motivating emails being sent back and forth. Nevertheless, she's a nice lady who would never hurt a fly.

Mom and Dad brought Audrey's kids over, like I said would happen. I got an earful this morning when they came over to help set up. I'm more than willing to make amends with Audrey, it's not my fault that she hasn't called to talk to me.

"Jolyon seems to be having a great time." Mom says, as she writes out a list for me to make thank you cards for.

"Yeah," I agree, "This is probably the best party he's had."

"Well, I'm impressed," She replies, "I thought...it would be a little less organized."

"Why did that sound like an insult?"

"Honey, I love you, but you don't always handle things well. You get a little overwhelmed."

"Overwhelmed?" I scoff, placing four birthday candles on the cake that turned out beautifully. "It's a kid's party, not a banquet."

"I've seen you fluster over less," Mom laughs, "I thought you were gonna make the cake?"

"I decided to buy one."

"I'm glad to hear that," She adds, "I thought you were being a little cheap."

"I wasn't being cheap," I retort, "It just seemed a little pricey to pay forty-five dollars for a cake."

"Well, having kids is expensive." Mom sighs. "I thought Caroline would be here by now."

"Caroline?" I look over at her. "Caroline Rollins?"

"Yes, I saw her at the wine and art class Thursday and I invited her."

"Mom, you can't just invite people to my son's party!" I sharply whisper.

"Oh, it was just Caroline and she said there was a possibility she wouldn't be able to make it."

"Well, maybe that's because she knew you invited her without my permission."

Mom rolls her eyes. "I'm gonna go call the kids in for cake."

I'm actually glad she does, because as I go to light the candles with my lighter, my hands shake a little as they go from each candle. I know it's because I haven't had a drink since Thursday night. I got a little drunk after that falling out I had with D and my body definitely is confused as to why I haven't been drinking to take the edge off. I know Negan would give me shit for knowing that I drank two nights ago, but he's waist deep in in-laws at the moment, so I doubt he'll even ask me Monday morning. It sucks that he's not available; I really could stand to look at he's stupid face.

Dad comes in just as I light the last candle and undoubtedly saw the trembling of my hands. I hold them together, smiling when the kids come running in.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah!" Jolyon climbs up on the chair nearest the cake.

"Okay, everyone gather 'round!" I call, which proves unnecessary since all the kids pretty much filed in at my mom's mention of cake. "On three, we're gonna sing happy birthday. Ready? One-two-three! Happy birthday to you..."

We sing the song to Jolyon, who's face lights up in utter happiness, as well as from the candle lights. "Happy birthday, dear Jolyon, happy birthday to you!"

"Blow out your candles!" I chuckle.

Jolyon extinguishes the candles in one fell swoop. "I did it!"

"You did, good job!" I kiss his head. "Let's cut the cake."

 **...**

The doorbell rings around three-thirty. I stop sweeping up the kitchen and make sure that Jolyon's nap wasn't disturbed, before going to answer the door. Through the peephole, I see Lourdes' buxom frame on my porch.

"Hey," I open up, "You're here."

"I'm late, aren't I?"

"Yeah, the party ended an hour ago."

She chuckles into a sigh. "I'm sorry. I had some shit I was dealing with."

"It's okay," I look her over. "You alright?"

"I...I hate to impose, Pip, especially because I missed Jol's party, but could I stay the night?"

"Uh, yeah, of course," I extend my hand out, "Come in. It's cold."

"I gotta get my stuff from the car."

"It can wait," I insist, after examining her face a little more.

"No," She laughs, "It really can't."

"What's going on?"

"This is for Jolyon," She holds out a little bag.

"Thanks," I take it, "Lour, what happened? Are you drunk?"

"No, no, I'm just...tipsy."

"What's wrong?"

"Simon and I got into it."

"What about?"

"I think...I think he's cheating on me."

An unnerved expression winces on my face. "Oh."

"He came home last night at three in the morning," She leans her hand on my door frame, "This morning...we were in bed together and his shirt smelled like perfume. He said it was mine, but I would never wear something that trashy and cheap."

"Well, he does sell drugs," I frown, "Some of his buyers have to be women. Maybe..."

"Maybe what?" She scoffs, "They fuck to seal the deal?"

I don't really have an answer. Simon doesn't necessarily scream fidelity when I picture him in my head. "Alright, well, let's talk more inside. I'll make you some tea."

"I've gotta get the dog."

"The what?" I look out to her car. "Cleo?"

"Yeah, I brought her with me," Lourdes sets her purse down on the floor of the inside of my house, "Don't worry, she's cat friendly and house trained. And loyal, unlike someone else I know. "

"You took his dog?"

"He shouldn't leave her at _my_ house, if he didn't want me to take her."

"He lives there, Lour," I nervously say practically to myself since she's walked to her car, "I take it he's gone and will come home to an empty house?"

"Yep," She calls from her car as she fishes out her overnight bag and the dog, "He'll walk into _my_ house, because it's _mine_ , not ours. His name isn't on the mortgage." She acridly laughs. "He couldn't put his name on name tag, he's so fucking shady. So, he'll walk into _my_ house and it'll be sans one woman and a dog."

"So, he's gonna start calling you by then?"

"Probably," Lourdes snottily smiles, "Probably for the dog, but I won't pick up. C'mon, girl!"

The bull terrier trots alongside her with a happy, wagging tail. The poor, careless thing has no clue it's a pawn in Lourdes' vindictive plot to piss Simon off.

"I promise she won't bother the cat."

"Okay." I watch the dog pad past me into my home and straight for where Jolyon's napping in the living room. Not five seconds later, I hear him laugh.

"Hey, stop it!" He cackles. "Mom!"

"I'm here."

"Look, Mom, it's Cleo!"

"Yeah, Lourdes is gonna stay the night with us." I say, as she and I enter the room.

"Lourdes!" Jolyon leaps up from the sofa and runs over.

"Hey, you!" She scoops him up. "Happy birthday! I'm sorry I missed your party."

"You're gonna have a slumber party with me?"

"Yeah, you and your mom," She giggles, "It's gonna be fun, right?"

"Right," Jolyon smiles, before looking at me, "right?"

I smile back, inhaling. "Right."

 **...**

"Are you free to talk?"

"Yeah, I'm at the store. Why?"

I look back at Lourdes and the dog snuggled up on the sofa, before tiptoeing back to my room. "I've got Lourdes here with me."

"Oh," Negan chuckles, "What are you wearing?"

"In your dreams!" I hoarsely whisper. "She came over after Jolyon's party and asked if she could stay the night."

"Man troubles?"

"You nailed it," I scoff, "She brought his dog here, too."

"Oh, damn!" He laughs, "That's vindictive. I love it."

"That's what I said!" I lightly bring Jol's door to a near close. "Well, except the last part."

"What'd he do?"

"She thinks he cheated on her."

"No, shit?"

"Yeah," I confirm, "I mean, it was the whole perfume on the collar thing, so I don't know if he really did, or didn't. Lourdes didn't say if he confessed."

"She's hot blooded, that one," Negan replies with glass clinking in the background, "She probably jumped to conclusions, though I think it's a little fuckin' hypocritical."

"Why's that?" I ask, "Because she had an affair with you?"

"What's good enough for the goose is good enough for the fuckin' gander."

"She didn't cheat on anyone," I softly defend, "You did."

"Oh, please," He retorts and I can just hear the eye roll, "We were still fuckin' around when she met Simon. Did for three months."

"I...I kind of suspected as much," I admit, "But that doesn't mean she deserves to be cheated on, or to be hurt."

"Yeah, well, what goes around, comes around."

"Watch it," I warn with a chuckle in my voice, "Watch it, before you eat those fucking words."

"Shit, at this point, if Lucille did cheat on me I think I'd fuckin' welcome it."

"You goddamn liar!" I laugh, "You would fuckin' flip your lid. Probably kill the guy."

"Are you fuckin' kidding?" He scoffs, "If there was another man, I'd let that thin dicked son of a bitch move right on in. Let him deal with the in-laws."

I snicker. "How's it going?"

"One more day and their fuckin' out of my hair."

"That good, huh?"

"I'm at the store, looking for a wine I'm pretty fucking sure doesn't exist," Negan informs me, "I tell ya, I think Lu's mom is a bigger lush than you. I offered to go alone, just so I could get away. I doubt they even fuckin' know I'm gone."

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it's goddamn picnic," He sarcastically replies, "How was the party?"

"It was great," I sit on the edge of my tub, "Jolyon had a blast. The cake turned out really nice."

"You're welcome."

"I wasn't thanking you, limp dick," I laugh as quietly as possible, "But thanks for lending me the money. I still have five of it, but I'll give you the rest next pay day."

"Nah, I'm not expecting you to pay me back."

"Well, I'm going to anyway."

"Jesus, you and your damn pride."

I smile. "I guess I should leave you to your fruitless wine hunt."

"Ha-ha, smart ass," Negan huffs, "You going to bed?"

"Probably."

"Alright, I'll see ya Monday."

"Can't wait," I grin softly, "Bye."

"Night."

I walk over to the sink to wash my face for bed. It felt oddly good talking to him. I pool warm water in my hands and bring them to my face. I look up into the mirror at the reflection that has mascara running down it's face. I pump some cleanser into my hands, lathering it between my fingers, before I- Wait...did I tell him I "can't wait" to see him Monday? My eyes glance back at the mirror in horror.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed Chapter 30! I just started classes again, so I will be posting a chapter a week of either this fic, or Save Yourself. I'd love to be able to post one for both, but I'm afraid that's mission impossible.**

 **CLTex: Yes! I totally agree with you that besides Jolyon, Pippa doesn't have a good enough grasp on how to be happy. She constantly chooses what she knows is the wrong/painful choice. Her alcohol problem mixed with her depression definitely plays a part in her decisions. I suppose these affairs could be thrilling for her, even though she knows it's wrong. And I agree that Dwight kind of makes things way worse, as opposed to Negan. I think it's just the difference of characters. Negan can compartmentalize his affairs, while having sex with someone who isn't his wife is all Dwight can think about whilst he's engaging in infidelity. I don't think Dwight would be a cheater in real life (or true to character), so I imagine my play on Dwight would be less laidback sort of cheater. Does that make sense? Lol But I do think he could be a little more kinder to Pippa, like Negan is. I think it's because Negan can compartmentalize that he's able to build the relationship he has with Pippa, as well as going out of his way for her.**

 **StTudnoBright: Yeah, Negan would make breastfeeding weird lol! And I think it would do Pippa some good to have some time away from Dwight. They're failed past and apparent failed present appears to be quite damaging to her. Plus, it'll give her some time to focus on being a mom and sobriety with Negan's aid. Negan, despite being a cheating asshole, does appear to be the better path right now.**


	31. Chapter 31

The morning after Jolyon's party, I wake up rather early instead of sleeping in like I usually do. It's the first time in a while that I haven't groaned at my alarm, or pawed at the snooze button like a zombie. I feel fresh and rejuvenated and not at all like I'm going to remind my cat how lucky he is to only be a cat like I do everyday.

I let Jolyon and Lourdes sleep in, while I have some nice, relaxing me time and run a bath. Well, it's not just me in here. Cleo padded into my bedroom shortly after her sharp canine ears picked up on me moving on the other side of the house. She's laying on my bath rug as I fish out some floral bath ballistics from under the sink. Pip's perched up on the bathroom sink, still unsure of what to make of the beast that hasn't made any effort to pester him. Steam delicately warms the air as I wait for my bathwater to fill up. The petals float in the water.

My mind almost feels as calm and clear as the water I'm about to soak in. I haven't stopped thinking about what I said to Negan last night as I was hanging up the phone. I told him I couldn't wait to see him at work on Monday. It was small and just nonchalant enough to pass as a meaningless, sarcastic remark that he's become accustomed to with me. However, I also feel like maybe we got a little too sweet on each other this past week. I know not many would consider two people fornicating at work, which happens to be a place that's filled with today's youth, while cracking dirty jokes and calling each other assholes as "sweet" but that's how we operate together. Anyway, I just don't want him to think that I had a slip of weakness. He'll never let me live that shit down. I can picture his cocky smirking face now.

The sound of a car pulling up makes me pause from getting naked. At first, I think it's for my neighbors, since they have friends over every Sunday for breakfast, but I quickly realize by the closing of a car door that someone's parked outside _my_ house. I stand perfectly still in the bathroom as I wait to see if whomever's out there will knock, or ring the bell.

A pounding sends Cleo excitedly running out of the bathroom and barking towards the door. I hear Lourdes shout for the dog to "Cállate!" and it's then that I remember why she and the dog are here. Fuuuck! This has to be Simon.

"Lourdes!"

Yep, it's Simon. He's probably here to retrieve his dog and maybe reconcile with Lourdes. I put what clothes I already took off back on, frustrated, before I begrudgingly barefoot it to the front door to meet this asshole. I had a bad feeling about this from the moment I found out Lourdes brought the dog. She started getting calls, voicemails, and text messages around eleven at night, presumably about the time he got home, but she purposely ignored every single one. She didn't even read or listen to any of the messages he left out of curiosity. At one point, I saw her do that thing where she hit the ignore the button right away, just so he'd know that she knew he was trying to get a hold of her.

"Lourdes!"

I open the door a little, but not without an angry force. I immediately lock eyes with him.

"Mornin'," He casually greets, "Is Lour inside?"

"Yes and she's asleep."

"Well, wake up her up for me, would ya?" Simon requests. "I need to talk to her."

Cleo whines on my side of the door, wagging her tail with anxious eagerness to hear her master's voice. She causes both of us to look down and then back up at each other.

"That my dog?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"Uh, yeah, here." I open the door some more, so Cleo can trot out to greet him.

Simon happily gets down on one knee as the dog nudges his leg. "Hey, sweetheart!" He rubs her down. "How's my girl?"

"I didn't know she was bringing the dog." I inform him.

"No, I don't imagine ya did. How could you know she'd be crazy enough to take my dog hostage?" He replies, giving Cleo a sturdy pat on the back, before standing.

"Well, she...was a benevolent captor."

"I bet," Simon says with wryness, "So, where's she at?"

"I told you; she's sleeping."

"Go get her."

"Come back after she wakes up," I suggest, "I'll let her know to call you."

Simon makes a face that expressly conveys that that's not going work for him. "Yeah, that's not gonna work for me." Told ya. "I'd rather you just go and get her for me. You know, since I'm already here."

"Well, she-" I knit my brows together, "How did you know where to find her and how do you know where I live?"

"She came here last time we had a misunderstanding and the answer to your second question is I found your kid's party invite on the counter in the kitchen."

I nod my head, glancing down at the dog. "Wait here."

I leave the door open as I go into the living room around the corner to get Lourdes. I guess they have to eventually talk, or whatever. Settle shit. When I get to the living room, Lourdes is turned facing the couch, asleep. I have a seat on the coffee table and gently wake her.

"Lourdes," I half- whisper, nudging her shoulder, "Lourdes."

"Sí?"

"Simon's outside," I let her know, "He wants to talk to you."

"Tell him to go to hell." She groans.

"I think you should tell him that yourself."

Lourdes exhales out of sleep and with frustration. "Oh, alright. Tell the douche bag to wait a minute."

I snicker. "Alright." I walk back to the front door, where he's leaning on the frame."She said to wait a minute, douchebag." He looks at me. "Her words."

"Sounds like her."

"You want some...coffee, or something while you wait?"

"I'm good, thanks."

 **...**

"So, she's back with him?"

"Yeah, I guess he explained that it was all some misunderstanding, or...I don't know." I watch Jolyon a few yards ahead of me. "He didn't seem all that apologetic to me."

"You overheard?"

I shrug. "A little bit from the kitchen. I didn't want to seem like I was eavesdropping."

"You were fuckin' eavesdropping," Negan chuckles with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"No, I was in the kitchen making Jolyon breakfast."

"He woke up by then?"

"...No, but so what?"

Negan laughs, "You nosy ass eavesdropper."

I sigh as we walk the track in the cold. My breath puffs out in front of me. "I hope it was a misunderstanding. For Lourdes' sake. I mean, like I said, he didn't seem apologetic. Maybe because he didn't have anything to apologize for?"

I look over at Negan with half- hope that he'll agree with me. But someone like him, I imagine, doesn't dwell in foolish hope in cases like these. Not when he's a seasoned cheater and liar. He does glance over at me for a moment, before turning his head forward again.

"Yeah, sure."

"Mom!" Jolyon calls from all the way over there. "Come look!"

"On my way!" I shout back, casually strolling in his direction.

Neither Negan nor I had any business staying after work today, other than that we just wanted to. Jolyon asked if we could have Chinese food tonight, so I figured I didn't have to be home as early to cook, if I'm just gonna grab take out on the way. And I don't think Negan is too eager to go home after the tense weekend he just had with his balls "in a jar." Apparently, not all was well after his in-laws left last night. So, the three of us are just walking around the track.

"How good do you think the make up sex was?"

I give him a look. "I don't know, because I don't think about others having sex."

"Well, I sure as hell can picture it, considering I know Lourdes."

"Shut up! She's my friend, I don't want to picture shit like that!" I cross my arms. "...Besides, I've heard them before, so I already kind of know."

"What do you mean you heard them?"

"The first day of school," I relay, "I heard two people going at it in what turned out to be Simon's car. You'd never think those two had problems."

"Oh, yeah!" Negan chuckles devilishly. "I told Avery about 'em when I saw her get out of a car and adjust her skirt."

"I knew it was you." I shake my head.

"Hey, it was lewd conduct," He claims, still chuckling, "What if some kids saw their Spanish teacher riding some sketchy drug dealer in a car?"

"She also teaches French and ASL club."

Negan snickers at my comment. "She would've got fired."

I arch my eyebrow at him. "She would have? Avery kind of gave her a slap on the wrist when he told her Simon wasn't allowed near the school."

"Yeah, that's because I told him, _before_ they'd have a chance to do it again and students could start talking."

"I'll admit, it wasn't a good idea for her to do that, but I don't think Avery would have gone as far as firing her."

"Maybe not, but he would've had to file a report and send it to the board and district."

I look at him in understanding. At least I think I understand. I think he's suggesting that it would've gone to Lucille and she might not have been as lenient on Lourdes as Avery was.

"I take it you didn't finish off the your anniversary night with a big finish," I wink my eye with a smirk, "If you catch my drift."

"Yeah, I got it, asshole," He snickers, "And you can shut the fuck up."

I cackle, pushing his arm. "So, that'd be a no?"

"That would be a no," Negan confirms, "We got into it after they left. Supposedly, I was a 'fucking dick' the entire time."

"Were you?"

"I'm not very good at killing people with kindness."

"So, is that an admission of guilt?"

"A few choice words might have slipped out every so often."

I smile into a laugh. "Warranted, I hope."

"You bet your fucking ass it was warranted," He smiles back, "Her mom had the fucking balls to tell Lucille about how she ran into an old boyfriend of hers last week."

I keep my eye on Jolyon. "I know how that feels."

Negan scoffs, "He's a fucking oral surgeon. A newly divorced oral surgeon."

"Oh, please, like Lucille's gonna leave you for a newly divorced oral surgeon," I roll my eyes, "There's probably a reason he's divorced, like...maybe he got caught doing a little pro bono oral work."

He chuckles huskily. "Or maybe he didn't know how to use his drill."

"Shit, with how much he makes a year, you could fake it and take care of yourself in your luxury sheets."

"That's true."

We laugh together as we continue to walk towards my son. I exhale, "So, you were pissed, huh?"

"She told Lucille that he had three little girls," He clears his throat, "That's a huge no-no topic with her, but I'm the ass for changing the subject."

"Was it a subtle transition?"

"Is anything about me fucking subtle?"

"You were an ass." I conclude, sighing. "So, it was a bumpy ride?"

"Our guest room is down the fucking hall and we could still hear them talking about what an asswipe I am."

I snicker softly. "Well, they're gone now, so things will be better. Right?"

"Yeah, it'll blow over soon enough," He scratches his facial hair, "She'll let it go."

"Yeah..." I mouth, taking his word for it, since I don't really know Lucille that well, "How come kids are-"

"Mom, Mom!"

"Yes, son?"

"Come here!" He takes my hand, pulling me along. "Come see."

"Okay, okay," I chuckle, picking up the pace, "What is all the fuss about?"

"Look!" Jolyon points to someplace under the bleachers. "Look it!"

"What? What am I looking at?"

"Ducks, Mom!"

I crouch down to his eye level and squint at the dirty undercarriage of the bleachers. Sure enough, there's a couple ducks huddled together under the bleachers, tucked into their feathers, asleep.

"Oh, I see!" I smile.

"Where are their babies?"

"Well, it's still wintertime, baby, so-"

"I'm not a baby, _Mom!_ " Jolyon crossly snaps, knitting his little brows at me with an angry pout on his face.

"Oh, I'm-"

"Hey!" Negan booms, directing his finger towards Jolyon, as he strides up to us. "Don't talk to your mother like that."

Jolyon looks up at him in the way all kids do when they get corrected. "Sorry," He murmurs.

"Don't tell me," Negan replies, "Tell her you're sorry."

Jol glances at me. "I'm sorry, Mama."

"It's okay," I kindly smile at him.

"Where are their babies?" He asks again, pointing back to the ducks.

"It's wintertime, so they won't lay eggs until springtime."

"When's that?"

"In a few weeks." I take another look under the bleachers, before standing up. "You ready to head home?"

"One more loop!" He begs.

"Yeah, Mom," Negan chuckles, "One more loop."

"Please!"

I smirk at the gym coach, then down at my boy. "Alright, just one more loop around the track, but then we have to go home."

"Yay!" Jolyon swings my hand, walking by my side.

"Yay," I repeat with a little less enthusiasm, looking over Negan once again, "You gonna go home, too?"

"Yeah, I probably should."

"You could have take out with us, if you want."

"You live three fuckin' towns away," He snickers on the other side of me.

"Yeah, but it's only half an hour's drive," I briefly make sure Jolyon's not paying attention, before I put a hand on Negan's sleeve, "You really turned me on back there."

"Oh, yeah?" He raises his brows, "What'd I do to get your motor running?"

I bite my lip and my laugh sounds like a purr. "You might think this is weird, coming from me, but it really flooded the downstairs the way you fathered my kid just now."

"You liked that?" Negan leans my way. "You want me to put him in time out, so we can go behind the bleachers?"

"I don't want to go to time out!" Jolyon cries after he overhears our banter. "I said sorry already!"

"Oh, no, honey," I quickly turn to him, "You don't have to go to time out. Negan was just joking. Right, Negan?"

"Well, I don't know," Negan grins at me, before glancing at Jolyon, "You gonna be rude to your mom again?"

"No!"

"Then no time out for the time being," He says, trying not to laugh, "But I better not hear you getting lippy with your mom, you hear me? I will shut that shit down."

I hold in a chuckle. "Stop it." I bring Jolyon's clasped hand to me, "He's just messing with you."

"That's not very nice," Jolyon huffs through his nose, "I don't 'preciate it!"

"Sorry, punk," I peer towards Negan, expectantly. "Say sorry." I mouth.

Negan rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too, kid."

"It's okay." Jolyon easily forgives.

"I got something for ya."

Both Jolyon and I focus our gazes on him with the same surprise.

"You do?"

"Yeah, it's in my car."

When we've finished walking another lap around the track, the three of us head to the parking lot. Jol and I follow Negan to his car two spots away. He opens up the passenger's side and reaches in.

"Catch." He tosses Jolyon something brown.

Jolyon extends both arms out to catch the item. Once he's caught it, he brings out his hands to see what he's got. Immediately, his eyes widen in awe. "It's a mitt!"

I stare down at the kid-sized baseball glove in his hands. "It...is."

"Put it on," Negan tells him, smiling, "Other hand. There you go." He suddenly produces a baseball, "Ready?"

"Yeah!" Jolyon holds out his hand with the mitt on.

"Alright, catch." He throws it lightly towards him. The ball makes it into Jol's glove, but he still drops it. "Ah, we'll work on it."

"Is the ball mine, too?"

"Sure as hell is," Negan snickers, pleased that Jolyon likes the gift, "You can't play catch without a ball, can ya?"

"Cool!" Jolyon drops the ball into his glove.

I chew the side of my lip, before smiling down at him. "What do you say?"

"Thank you, Negan!"

"You are very welcome." Negan replies, smiling at Jolyon, too.

"Thank you." I tell him as well.

"Well, the season's gonna start soon," He blinks over to me, "I figured, if you stay after work a couple of days, I might as well hang with the kid while practice is going."

"Won't that distract you from coaching?" I cock my brow, amused.

"I can't do two fuckin' things at once?" Negan scoffs, raising his own brows.

"I guess, but how would you keep the kids in line, if they saw the big, scary coach playing catch with a cute little boy?"

"I'm a big kid!" Jolyon complains up at me, before becoming shy when his eyes move to Negan. "Sorry."

Negan flickers his eyes to me in waiting.

"Sorry, Mom."

"It's alright," I ruffle his curls, pecking him on the head, "Let's get you buckled in."

"Can I try to do it myself?"

"Yeah, go ahead," I open the back door, "I'll come check in a minute."

Jolyon climbs in and gets himself situated in the booster seat he got upgraded to just yesterday. I shift back to Negan with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

I mosey over to him. "Are you trying to get me all hot and bothered?"

"Is it working?"

I chuckle. "I think I might think of you later tonight."

"Mm, is that so?"

"Mhm," I grab a little of his shirt, "Being stern with my brat and then doing something sweet for him? I can't think of anyone else I'd rather give pro bono oral work to."

Negan growls as he chuckles. "That's only hot if you're an oral surgeon like that guy."

"Well, just pretend I'm that oral surgeon guy." I tip my toes up a little to kiss him. "And I make two- hundred grand a year and you get to fuck me on those hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets I bought you, because I treat my girl-"

"Are you drunk?" He bursts out laughing.

"I'm wet." I kiss him more passionately.

"Damn," Negan touches my body, "I knew you couldn't wait to see me, but I didn't realize you were this eager."

My eyes scan his face. "What?"

"Saturday night, when we were on the phone?" He reminds me, "You said you couldn't wait to see me."

Crap. "I did not."

"Yes, you did and you damn well fuckin' know it," Negan draws me a little closer, turning up the charm, "No need to be modest, Pip. I mean you did just say that you were gonna flick it to me tonight, so I think we're passed all that grade school bashfulness."

I scoff, quelling a moan as his breath caresses my neck. "Well, I must admit, I like to keep you strung along."

"Consider me high and dry."

"You won't me dry for long, if you keep breathing on me like that."

"Watch your mouth," Negan chuckles against my skin, "Your boy might hear."

I smile gently, pulling away. "Noted." I turn halfway "Jol, you ready?"

I don't get a response from Jolyon. As I look into the backseat of my Jeep, I spy him sitting in his booster seat with his head drooped off to the side. He fell asleep within the two or three minutes of Negan and I's vulgar tête-à-tête.

"Unbelievable."

"Your kid's got fuckin' narcolepsy, or some shit."

I roll my eyes at him. "Shut up."

"You know," He steps forward, "It came at perfect timing. We could have a quickie in my car, while he's napping in yours."

"Well, sad to say, I find that scenario a little weird and beneath me, so I think I'll call it a day."

"Beneath you?" Negan scoffs, humored, "Pippa, you answered the door of a cheap motel room, butt ass naked and blitz off said naked ass."

"Yeah, but my kid wasn't sleeping out in the car when it happened," I retort, "I gotta go, that take out isn't going to order itself."

"Yeah, I gotta go, too."

I grin lightly. "See ya tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Oh, and by the way, I will be staying after work a lot during baseball season."

Negan looks at me as he strolls over to the driver's side of the car. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, I kind of told Avery I would coach the softball team."

His brows instantly knit, before he scoffs. "Yeah, fucking right."

"It's true, he asked me."

Negan smirks. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but coaching sports around here is my thing."

"Well, there's a new sheriff in town," I laugh back, "So, you better get ready."

 **...**

Jolyon wanted to call his dad this evening after dinner. I pushed the green button once I found him in my contacts and just handed the phone to Jolyon to talk. I figured since he hasn't wanted to talk to me these last few times, I wasn't gonna make things uncomfortable for the both of us. When Jol says "Hi!" with that cute excitement in his voice that he pretty much has whenever he talks to anybody on the phone, since it's like a "big kid" thing to get to do, I step outside to the backyard to smoke a joint at the patio set I got from an equity sale I went to with my mom awhile go.

I look around my decent sized yard and think how it's not quite as lovely as Lourdes'. I don't know she's got a green thumb, or a gardener, but I wish I had one of the two to spruce things up back here.

"Mom?"

I blow smoke. "Out here!"

Jolyon arrives at the slider glass door, opening it slightly. "Mom!"

"Yeah?"

"Where's my birthday card from Dad?" He asks me, "He said he sent me one."

"Tell him, we haven't gotten it yet."

"Mom said we didn't get it yet," Jolyon tells him, before listening to whatever it is he's replying, "Are you sure, Mom?"

"What?"

"Dad wants to know if you're sure we didn't get it."

I huff, exhaling smoke in the opposite direction. "Tell him, yes, I'm sure."

"She said she's sure." He listens more, then looks at me. "He said he sent it two weeks before my birthday."

"Well, he must have sent it to the wrong address, or something," I irritably say, "Maybe the postal offices lost it. Here, bring me the phone."

Jolyon pushes the door open enough so he can get out. "Here's Mom, okay?" He starts to walk over, but stops halfway. "Okay. He said never mind. He'll send another one."

"Whatever," I mumble, "Go inside, please."

Jolyon turns around and continues to talk to Eugene as he reenters the house.

Yep, he's definitely not speaking to me. That's fine; no skin off my nose. I know he thinks I tossed the birthday card that literally did not come in the mail. I don't know why he'd think that. It's not like I've ever kept him from Jolyon. I may have made this arrangement, which he doesn't particularly like, but that he did in fact agree to, but that doesn't make me a bad person. He's allowed to call, or send whatever to Jolyon whenever, so long as it's within reason. I gave Jolyon every other postcard, or what have you that he's sent so far, so why the hell would I maliciously throw something away now?

I take another drag. Maybe it's not an accusation of vindictiveness. Maybe it's an accusation that I lost it, or accidentally threw it away. I have done that before. It's never on purpose and I'm ashamed to admit that it was like that time I let those tickets expire. It was because I drinking most nights and when that happens, the days and nights sort of just spill into one another and it's easy to lose track of things and time. He knows that happens. Hell, he's seen it happen.

"Shit." I put the joint out and go into the house.

I head to kitchen to get into the garbage can. Or maybe I could've put it in the recycling like I do all my other mail. Wait...I shred my mail, before I-

"Oh, fuck!" I look over at the shredded nest of papers in the recycle bin by the garbage. It's all indistinguishable from one another. If there was a card, it's smithereens now. "Goddamnit."

"What's the matter?" Jolyon pads in holding my phone in both hands.

"Um, nothing," I put my hand out, "You done talking?"

"Yeah," He gives me the phone, then walks to the living room, "He said I can come see him if I want to in a few weeks. If you'll let me."

"Oh?" Shit, I forgot about that.

"Yeah. Can I?"

 **...**

"What are you wearing?"

"This again? Jeans and an old Nirvana t-shirt."

"You could've fuckin' lied and said nothing, asshole."

I roll my eyes, slipping on my shoes. "I'm leaving for my mom's in a minute, so I don't have time to talk to you, while you presumably jerk it, you pervert. Where's Lucille?"

"She's out. Where the fuck are you going at six o'clock on a Thursday night?" Negan asks.

"I'm going to this thing that my mom goes to every Thursdays," I answer, "Jol, let's go! We have to be at Gran and Pop's in twenty minutes!"

"Coming!"

"Is it a knitting circle?" Negan chuckles through the phone like an ass. "You gonna knit me a tea cozy?"

"I'll knit you a noose," I retort, "It's an art class at the rec center."

"...A wine and art class?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I collect my keys off the kitchen table. "Jolyon!"

"You think that's a good idea?" Negan inquires of me with a little uneasiness to his tone. "I mean, you are still sober, right?"

"I am not an alcoholic, so I don't need to practice sobriety and as a matter of fact, I haven't drank since...two Thursdays ago. The Thursday before Jol's party." I proudly smirk, before suddenly recalling, "Oh, wait. I had a bloody Mary at brunch last Sunday with my parents."

"A bloody Mary?" Negan huffs, "You know that's fuckin' vodka, right?"

"I'm well versed in imbibed drinks, thank you, and it was brunch."

"I thought people had mimosas at brunch. You know, champagne and orange juice and not goddamn vodka."

"Champagne's for babies," I cackle, "I might as well just drink the orange juice."

"I don't think the fuckin' point of brunch is to get fuckin' wasted, Pip."

"Well, I want to-" I stop myself before I walk right into a lecture. "It's fine, okay? I didn't get drunk then and I'm not gonna drunk tonight."

"I don't think you should go to this dumb fuckin' wine and watercolor class," He warns me, "I don't think it's too hot an idea, Pippa."

I furrow my brows. "How'd you know the name of the class?"

"What?"

"The class is called 'Wine and Watercolor'," I inform him, "How'd you know that's what it's called?"

"Lucky fucking guess," Negan quickly dismisses the question, "Bottom line, I don't think you should go."

"Oh, you don't?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, you see, the thing is is that I'm an adult who can make my own decisions, so I'm going."

"Pip." He sternly says my name.

"I'll paint you a picture," I tease, "And I swear I won't get drunk."

"Don't drink at all."

"I...okay."

"Okay?" He repeats, perplexed. "You got a smart ass comment to add?"

"No, I won't drink. Jolyon Christopher Porter, right now!" I sigh, "But it's only to prove a point that I'm not some drunk who can't be around booze without hittin' it."

"Or you could just stay the fuck away from a place that's centered around it."

"I told my mom I would go." I watch Jolyon come into the hall with his backpack filled to the brim. "Whatcha got there?"

"What?"

"Not you. Jolyon."

"I got my stuff to spend the night." Jolyon replies.

"Hon, we're not spending the night."

"Why not?"

"Because we're coming home after Gran and I get back from our class. You and Pop are just hanging out for a little bit."

"Oh. Can I still bring my stuff?"

"No, so put the backpack down and let's go."

"Aw, Mom!" He groans.

"Yeah, I know, I'm the worst," I open the front door, "Listen, Negan, I gotta go."

"There's not a chance I could convince you to stay home and talk to me instead?"

"Not a chance in hell."

He snickers. "We could do that thing you suggested earlier."

"What you mean me talking to you while you spend time yourself?"

"Sure."

"And what the hell do you think I'd possibly get from that?" I scoff, "Unless you're willing to pay me by the minute, I don't think so."

"Prude."

"Hey, well, think about it," I bite my lip as a snotty smile creeps up, "You'd only have to pay for what? Three minutes?"

"Fuck you."

I laugh out. "Adding two more minutes won't be that pricey."

"You think you're so fuckin' funny, don't you?" He laughs.

"I do," I buckle Jolyon in, "And I've got to go, so I'll see you tomorrow."

He sighs, "Fine. See ya."

"Bye."

 **...**

Mom and I arrive to the rec center class a little early, so I just sit and smile as she talks to her friends. Occasionally, I politely give vague, hunky dory answers to people whom I don't know that well's questions about my life. My eyes gravitate to the clock on the wall and I keep asking myself when the wine's gonna get here. I'm pretty sure I'm the only woman here that's under 40, despite my mom telling me that there's plenty of people my age that attend.

Around six- thirty, the class finally starts, as soon as all the easels are set up. There's assistants of the instructor that pop open a couple bottle of wines and pass around glasses that are filled as they come by. They also brought packets of Chips Ahoy, since this is a classy activity. The instructor is sort of how I pictured her. A total artsy-fartsy, bohemian type that uses a lot of hand movements and soft spoken language. She begins with showing us a piece she already did earlier; a bowl of fruit, a wheel of cheese, and a pitcher of wildflowers on a rustic looking table. She then sets up the same exact scene on a little model table, insisting that we all will be able to replicate her work, as she guides us step by step.

"Jesus," I whisper to my mom, "She fucking used water colors to paint that?"

"She's an artist," Mom answers sharply, "And watch your mouth!"

"I thought we were gonna be sloppily brushing sunset beaches, not water coloring the Sistine goddamn Chapel."

"If you wanted something less challenging, you should have gone to the finger painting class they have for kids."

I chuckle under my breath with her. "Shut up."

"Don't tell your mother to 'shut up'," She stifles a laugh, "I raised you."

"Not well enough."

"Shh," Mom snickers, "Pay attention to the teacher."

"Hi!" The instructor waves to someone who's walked in late.

"Sorry, I'm late!" The woman says behind all the easels that block my view of her. "Work."

My eyes anxiously follow the sight of yellow curls that approach nearer and nearer to where we're seated. Mom looks over and smiles. "Hey!"

"Hello!" Caroline gives her a light, endearing hug. "I'm glad you made it this week."

"Look who I finally got to come with me."

Caroline's eyes illuminate as they lay catch sight of me. "Hey, you!"

"Hi, Caroline," I meekly murmur, shifting in my seat a little to accept her hug, "How are you?"

"I'm great, better now that I've seen your beautiful face," She warmly smiles, "I'm so happy you decided to come."

"Well, you and my mom have been twisting my arm, so...yeah."

She giggles. "Well, I'm glad it worked."

I smile back in response, but the truth is is that I'm so uncomfortable. Normally, I love seeing Dwight's mom, but after Dwight and I's last words, I can't bear to be sitting next to her right now. She's such a terrific lady and I love her, but she's an involuntary reminder of the all that pain. Even her subtle perfume alludes to good things that ended badly.

"Would you like some more wine?" One of the assistants asks.

"Yes, please." I hold out my glass.

We're quiet for a while, as we try to follow the steps. Mom and Caroline are surprisingly better at this than I expected. Mine looks like Jolyon could've done a better job. I think I'm more focused on the cookies and wine that keeps getting passed around. At one point, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, where I sit in a stall for five or ten minutes, taking deep breaths to keep from throwing up. I do a little anyway, but I think it's more my nerves. When I get back, Mom and Caroline are in the middle of a conversation about Tina.

"I told Sherry that she would be fine," Caroline says, "She was so wound up these past couple of weeks, but she's finally mellowing out."

"Well, I mean she is her younger sister," Mom replies, "After what happened to their parents, I don't blame her for being a little overprotective."

"I know, but Tina gets so frustrated that Sherry's texting and calling her like crazy, asking if she's taken her insulin," Caroline laughs, pacing her brush down, so she can take a sip of wine, "She gave Dwight the silent treatment the whole ride home. Even little after they got home, but it didn't last long. Those kids never stay mad long."

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah, well, I think it's easy for those two, since Dwight's such an easygoing person. Always has been, even when he was a little boy."

"Oh, I remember having to tell Pippa not to be such a little grudge holder whenever she and Dwight were playing and he did something to make her mad," My mom laughs, which makes Caroline laugh, too. "He would always put his hand up and ask for a truce, but she'd sometimes refuse to shake hands and that boy would never know what to do, besides follow her like a puppy, until she got over it."

"I remember that!" Caroline cackles. "And he never yelled back."

"Well, except the last time," Mom adds, "When he told her she was mean and that he didn't want to be friends anymore, before he stormed off into our backyard." She sighs, stroking her brush to her canvas. "Oh, she was so confused that she was in the wrong." Mom looks over at me and I offer a bland smile. "But she went out and apologized; hugged him and told him not to cry. I think she even kissed his cheek."

"Aw," Caroline smiles at me, "You were such a little sweetheart."

I awkwardly chuckle, taking a drink from my fourth glass of wine. The heavy feeling of that memory of when we were eight, as I remember it so vividly, presses me. I wish I hadn't come here.

"So, what are you doing for the weekend, Sarah?"

"Oh, Joe and I are going to head up to Richmond to see my granddaughter's oboe recital." She tells Caroline. I didn't know Lea had an oboe recital. Shit, I didn't even know she played the oboe.

"That sounds nice," Caroline looks to me, "Are you going?"

"Uh, no, I wasn't invited."

"My girls are not speaking to one another and neither one will bend, or tell me why they're arguing." My mom raises a scolding brow my way.

"Oh, well, I doubt you'll get either to break the code of sisters," Caroline retorts, winking at me.

"How about you, Caroline? What are you doing this weekend?"

"Well, I didn't have any plans until this evening, before I left work," She answers, "Sherry asked me if I could come over to their house tomorrow night for dinner. Apparently, they have some news to tell me."

My eyes sullenly fix on her.

"Do you think it's serious?"

"I'm not sure, but evidently it's important enough to ask me over." She glances my way to smile at me, but her smile fades. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Yeah," I break out a smile, "I'm...I'm fine. I just feel a little lightheaded is all."

"Oh, you partook of the refreshments a little too much, huh?" Caroline softly laughs, unaware that my mom is not sharing in the humor, because she knows.

"Yeah, I think I'll head to the car a little early, if that's okay."

"Sure, sure," She nods, touching her hand to my arm, "Take care of yourself."

"Thanks." I rise from my chair and cause my easel to scoot back abruptly, which draws attention. "S-sorry."

I avoid eye contact with my mother as I steady myself enough to walk outside to the parking lot. Once I'm free from other eyes, I sharply exhale. Once, twice, by the third time, I get a grip and swallow, but that's only because the nighttime janitor wheels out his mop and bucket from the storage closet.

I push open the door to the rec center and stumble a little as I walk out, but I don't know if it's from the wine, or from how floored I feel. I feel like I can't breathe. Like I'm underwater. I scrounge around my purse for three items; my cigarettes, my lighter, and my phone. After I light a cigarette, I hit the dial button to the last person I called. It goes to voicemail and I figured it might, but that doesn't stop me from trying again. Each ring that doesn't end with him picking up makes me want to cry. Voicemail again.

At the tone, I leave a message. "Hey, it's me. I need to talk to you, so pick up you...motherfucker." I shove my phone into my purse. "Fuck!"

I wander past my mom's car, not ready to get in. I make it as far as the edge, where I continue onto the sidewalk and along the brick wall that's got ivy ensnared all along it. I stop shortly when I feel too frustrated to go any further. So, I lean my back against the bricks and smoke. The cold, mixed with the smell of brick and damp dirt is only a small comfort. I stare out across the street, but I don't think at anything in particular.

 **...**

 _"We're gonna get caught," Dwight looks backs, "We're not supposed to be back here."_

 _"Oh, don't be such a goody two shoes!" I laugh._

 _"Yeah, well, my mom told me if I got into trouble again, I wouldn't get to go to prom."_

 _"She was talking about egging Mrs. Truesdale's house and skipping school for grand slams," I stop when we've made it to the far end of the bleachers, "Not sneaking under the bleachers. Besides, your mom is a total softy; all her threats are empty."_

 _"Really? Because she made me clean our kitchen and my grandparent's kitchen when I was late by two minutes getting home when I wasn't allowed to hang with you after school."_

 _"Your grandma waited until she left and then let you stop," I giggle at him, "Then she made you a snack."_

 _"Well, I'd rather not call her bluff."_

 _"I didn't know prom meant so much to you." I sit down on the picnic table that someone at some point dragged under here. "This is the first time I'm hearing you mention it."_

 _D looks down at the ground, shrugging his shoulder. "I thought you wanted to go."_

 _"When did I say that?"_

 _"Well, we were gonna go last year, but you got appendicitis the day before, remember?"_

 _"Oh, yeah!" I laugh, remembering how bummed I was to miss out, "Well, I do kind of want to go. It's the last dance of our senior year."_

 _"Yeah..."_

 _"I heard it's at this hotel in Richmond."_

 _"Why in Richmond?"_

 _I shrug my shoulders. "I guess we don't have any nice places to host prom."_

 _"I guess not."_

 _"My friend on the dance committee said that the hotel's offering half-off vouchers for students who plan on getting rooms, since the drive's so long and it'll be late when prom gets over."_

 _"Oh, yeah?" Dwight retorts, staring out._

 _"So, you want to go with me?" I ask him. "Oh, excuse me, I better say it all official like." I clear my throat with a smile. "D, do you want to go to prom with me?"_

 _"Sorry, I already I got asked," Dwight dryly jokes, sitting on the bench, "And I said yes."_

 _I swat his arm, laughing. "You jerk!"_

 _A small, humored smile inches across his face. "Yeah, I want to go to prom with you."_

 _"Good," I bring my legs up on the table, maneuvering myself until I'm laying on my tummy, "I thought I was gonna have to kick your ass otherwise, 'cause I already picked my dress out."_

 _"You bought it?"_

 _"No, but I get paid on Friday and I've been saving up my tip money for this dress at the Penney's in Woodhull."_

 _"Oh."_

 _"You should probably get a tie or something that matches my dress color," I think aloud, "I know it's cheesy as hell, but it's prom, so what isn't cheesy about that whole shebang?"_

 _"What color's the dress?"_

 _"Lilac. Well, it's sort of lilac. It's a little more...dustier, you know? Dusty lilac."_

 _Dwight snickers. "Ookay."_

 _I tilt my head to get a better look at him. "You alright?"_

 _"What? Yeah, why?"_

 _"I don't know, you seem kind of quiet."_

 _"Not everyone's a motor mouth like you, Pip."_

 _I guess that's true. I don't know if I'd considered Dwight shy, but he's not as talkative as I am. He's sort of the kind of person who's comfortable with being quiet for a period of time, whereas I feel like I'm about to pop if I'm the room with another person and we're not speaking. Shit, if I were like Dwight, we'd never get in trouble together. I like his calming quietude though._

 _"You seem more quiet than usual."_

 _Dwight shrugs a shoulder. "I'm trying not to be heard, so no teachers, or campus monitors catch us out here."_

 _"Oh," I giggle softly, "For a moment I thought you didn't want to go to prom and you were just being nice."_

 _"No."_

 _"...Do you not want to go?"_

 _"No, I do."_

 _"But?"_

 _"But...nothing," He replies, "I want to go."_

 _"We could get rooms right next to each other," I suggest, "Or..."_

 _"Or?" He looks my way._

 _I sheepishly twist my mouth the side. "Or...I don't know."_

 _"Were you about to say that we could share one?" Dwight inquires with stillness._

 _"Um, I was gonna say that that's what we could tell our parents, since they'd never let us get one together."_

 _"Oh...yeah."_

 _"I mean, some of the girls from softball and cheer are rooming together, so my mom and Dad wouldn't bat an eye, if I said..." I look up from the weathered wood of the table back to him, "You know what? Never mind."_

 _"Okay." Dwight glances downward._

 _I feel so annihilated by my own stupidity, especially with Dwight's reaction, even though he can't be blamed for that._

 _"I guess I could tell my mom that I'm splitting a room with someone from baseball..." He adds after a few moments of silence._

 _My eyes flicker to him. "What?"_

 _"If you wanted to share a room," Dwight clarifies, "I guess I could tell my mom I'm staying with friends."_

 _I stare, "Really?"_

 _"Yeah, I mean, if you wanted to."_

 _"O-okay."_

 _"Okay." He nods in confirmation, wiping his hands down his pants._

 _"I don't want to, if you don't though, Dwight."_

 _"No..." He turns his head in my direction, "I want to."_

 _"You do? Honestly?" I watch carefully for any hints of lying._

 _"Yeah, I do," Dwight looks with natural earnestness, "I want to share a room with you."_

 _I smile at him, before leaning over to kiss him._

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoy! Next Week: Save Yourself. And did anyone check the new trailer for the second half of season 8? Oh my goodness! Thanks to StTudnoBright for giving me the 411.**

 **CLTex: Oooh, I'm intrigued that you think you may have figured D/P's past out. :) And yes, I do think Negan wants to see her to get well. Lol, Eugene will make an appearance in some way in time.**

 **SeaWitch5432: I'm happy you love this story! I know Save Yourself is definitely the more popular fic, so it's nice to here such love for this one. Yeah, I think I love Pippa and Negan as a pairing, too. It's fun to write the two of them together. I haven't considered a meeting of Dwight and Negan, yet, but it's definitely an interesting thought.**

 **StTudnoBright: Oh, I thought some people might assumed it was the cancer at first, when Negan said he had bad news lol. I agree, the argument between Dwight and Pippa was a long time coming. I think Pippa might be falling for Negan...even if she doesn't recognize it as that.**


	32. Chapter 32

I manage to walk cool as a cucumber to the classroom door and down the halls with an inward desperation to get to the staff bathroom. By time I make it there, one of the math teachers just enters. Fuck! If they don't make it quick, I'm gonna hurl all over the school hall and I don't know if I can fool adults into thinking I've got allergies, or the flu, like I could my students. Not when I've been barely masking my breath with gum and lemon mint water. And especially not when I had a little mudslide in my coffee.

"Come on!" I beg under my breath.

"If you're about to piss your pants, might I recommend going to another bathroom?"

I stick my tongue in my cheek. "Now's not the time."

Negan looks me over with half a smirk as he strides up. "You hung over again?"

"Keep your voice down!" I harshly murmur, leaning close to him to keep these words between us. "You wanna get me fired?"

"You can do that all by your fucking self," He replies, a little humored, "I thought you said you wouldn't drink last night?"

"I didn't."

"Bullshit," Negan scoffs, producing his phone, "I got your message this morning."

Damn, I forgot about that. "...Well, why didn't you pick up?"

"Lucille was home."

"I thought she went out?"

"She did, but she got a migraine on the way there and decided to come home instead," Negan points his finger on my shoulder, "But that's beside the point and you fuckin' know it."

"It was a wine and watercolor class, Negan. I'm sor-" I put the back of my hand to my mouth for a second. I swallow it down, which clearly disgusts him. "I'm sorry, if I felt a little inclined to partake in both aspects of the class."

"Are you telling me you were pressured into it?"

I shrug my shoulder. "They kept offering to fill my glass."

"You are so full of shit," Negan rolls his eyes, "You drank because you put yourself in an environment you couldn't handle."

"What the hell do you know?" The bathroom door opens and the teacher glances briefly at the two of us, before walking off. I look back to Negan. "You coach kids, okay? That doesn't make you an expert on everything."

I go in and despite being able to hold it down for that little conversation, I projectile vomit into the toilet. The previous smell helps.

"You ever think about going to one of those group meetings?" Negan asks behind me. "Like AA, or some shit?"

"What are you doing?" I groan, before puking again. "This is a single bathroom."

"No one saw me come in, so fuckin' relax."

"That's not the point!" I shout, echoing off the tiled walls. "Get out."

"Boy, you must have been a real spectacle at that class, huh?" Negan chuckles, leaning on the sink. "Did they kick you out?"

"No, I left early and...walked a little," I spit into the toilet, before flushing it, "I went with my mom, so I let her stay 'til the end."

"Oh, so you embarrassed your mom?"

"Shut up," I push him from the sink, so I can wash my hands, "She was fine. I think. She didn't really say."

We exit the bathroom, luckily when the halls are clear. "Bet she won't invite you to go again."

"Bet you I wouldn't go even she asked me to."

"Bet you you're a goddamn liar."

"Stop calling me a liar," I snap, "I'm not a liar."

"Everyone lies, Pip, you just lie a lot."

"And you don't?" I retort, cocking my brow.

"Touché," He holds the door to my classroom open as I go inside, "Mind if I come in?"

"Actually, I do, but it's not like you won't just do whatever you want anyway, right?"

"Right," He chuckles, following me in and closing the door, "Oh, you got your lemon mint water and gum out. 'Cause that'll mask the fact that your breath is flammable and it's refreshing."

I take a swig from my water bottle, swishing it in my mouth as I go to the back door. There, I spit out the water and close the door. "Yep."

"You are so elegant."

"Just about as classy as you."

"So, what sent you over the edge?" Negan sits down in my chair, putting his feet up on my desk.

"Not so good news."

"What was it?"

"None of your concern." I sit on the edge of my desk his feet aren't on.

"It's got you all upset."

"I'm not upset. I'm over it."

He weaves his fingers together, laying them against himself as he peers up at me. "Then why are you coming to work with a nasty hangover?"

"Because that's my process of getting over shit."

"Hm," He nods, "Doesn't seem to work, if you're drunker than a fuckin' skunk two out three times something bothers you."

I scoff. "Well, I didn't say it was a perfect method, but it's mine."

Negan snickers, still staring. "I'm just trying to figure out what about watercolor made you so damn vexed. I mean, it sounds boring as all hell can be, but not enough to get lit off my ass to cope."

"It wasn't the watercolor, alright? Although, I did feel like an idiot for painting like a toddler."

"So, what then?"

"None of your concern." I snidely repeat, glancing over at the drawer where my buzzing phone rumbles. "Can you pass me my phone?"

Negan gets into the drawer and plucks out my phone, looking at the caller id. "Uh-oh. Looks like your kid's in trouble."

I grab my phone from him. "What are you-?" I see that Happy Hands is trying to get a hold me, so I answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Pippa?" Miss Jessica asks over the phone.

"Hi, Jessica," My eyes can't help but peer over at Negan, "Yeah, it's me. Is everything alright?"

"Oh, everything's fine," She beams with her cheery voice, "I was just calling to inform you that Jolyon will need to be picked up early today."

"Uh, what? Why is that?"

"We had a little incident at show-and-tell today and I think it'd be best if he went home a little early."

"Well...what happened?" I match Negan's confused, knitted brows.

"I think it's best if we talked about it in person." She replies.

"Is he in trouble?"

"No, he's not in trouble, but our policy is to speak to the parents first."

"First?" I get off the desk and go around Negan to get my purse out of the bottom drawer. "I don't understand, Jessica. What is this about? I thought you said everything was fine."

"It is, but like I said, I can't discuss this with you over the phone."

"O-okay, I'm on my way."

"Alrighty, I'll see you in a bit!" She hangs up the phone.

My head's pounding, but I urgently tread to get out of here. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" Negan inquires.

"I don't know, but I gotta go! It's something with Jolyon and your perky little preschool teacher wouldn't tell me over the phone." I take a quick look at the clock. I've got twenty minutes to get there and back.

"Want me to go with you?"

"Why on Earth would you go with me?"

"To drive you there."

"I'm not drunk now," I scoff at him in the hall, "I'm perfectly capable of driving."

"Well, then because I'm nosy and I want to know what's up."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why the hell not?" Negan walks with me in the hall towards the front.

"Because I'll be talking to Miss Jessica and I've seen her in your car before."

"I fuckin' told you I stopped seeing her and the others weeks ago."

I smile over at him with skepticism. "Yeah, I'm a little doubtful of that."

"Why? You haven't seen me with Lara, or Claire, have ya?"

"Just because I haven't seen you with them, doesn't mean anything," My smile suddenly lowers, "Besides, why would I care?"

Negan follows me to the parking lot and gets in my car, apparently bent on going. It takes me literally a minute to get down to the preschool/daycare. I really wish I wasn't hungover for this, but I guess that's what I get for being what Negan calls a "fucking lush."

"Alright, stay here." I get out of the car and hurry into the building. The front desk clerk glances at me through the glass door and I see her stand up, ready to greet me. "Hi, I need to speak to Miss Jessica about my son."

"Right, I'll go get her, Ms. Barnes."

Evidently, she was expecting me. I tap my agitated finger on the counter as I wait. I nervously peer back behind me at my car, where I can see that asshole's head in the passenger's seat. The front desk girl returns promptly to tell me that Jessica is just getting Jolyon from their back playground. I feel like I've been waiting an eternity, but really it's probably only been about three minutes.

"Mommy!"

I turn back around. "Hey, you!" I hug Jolyon when he wraps his arms around my legs. "Look at you, all ready to go."

"Miss Jessica said I get to go to your work early!" He smiles, just as unaware as I am as to why.

"I know," I pet his head, before looking up at Jessica, "So, what's this about?"

"Jol, why don't you go get your backpack from your cubby?"

"Okay!" Jolyon walks over to the cubby shelves.

She then redirects to me. "We had a little incident at show-and-tell."

"Yeah, that's what you said over the phone. What sort of incident?"

"Well, he brought his baseball glove and baseball for show-and-tell and-"

"Was that not okay?" I ask, "Because I told him he could and I'm sorry if that wasn't okay."

"Oh, no!" She assures me with gentle hands. "It was perfectly alright. It was...well, remember when I gave you his art work and some of it had various men featured in them?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Well, part of his presentation was that your very good friend, Coach Negan, gave him the glove and baseball as a gift."

Oh, fuck me! Mortification sinks me into practical speechlessness. I glance over at Jolyon, who's trying to zip his jacket. "I...I work with Negan. He sometimes watches Jolyon for me after school, if he's staying."

"Mhm," Jessica nods with a keen eyes, "He mentioned that."

I try my best to convey a sense of innocence. Like I don't know what more she might have to say, or that I have no clue that she suspects that I'm screwing him...or that I know that he use to screw her. "Okay, um, so what was the problem?" Why am I even asking? Do I really want her to tell me?

"Well, he said that Negan and you were very good friends and that that meant you and him have sex." Jessica folds her arms, cautiously lowering her voice. "He also mentioned that you had another very good friend that you also have...relations with, but that you were fighting with...um, him."

"I..." I tuck some curls behind my ear, "I am so sorry. I...I've been, um, I was seeing this guy and we...got serious and Jolyon accidentally caught us together one night, when I thought he was asleep."

"Okay..."

"Well, I didn't know what to say," I smile, embarrassed, "I haven't exactly dated since Jolyon's father and I didn't want him to get his hopes up when he caught us, so I told him that we were very goods friends and I...I tried to handle it delicately. I'm sure you can understand."

"Of course," Jessica smiles, kind, "It's not unusual for young kids to ask questions, especially about topics that are a little hard to explain for their age."

"Yeah." I nod.

"It's just that Jolyon appears to believe that you are involved with more than one man and he even told one of the other teachers that another man, Simon, I think, came pounding on your door last Sunday."

I shake my head. "Oh, it's just a misunderstanding. Simon is my friend's boyfriend. They had a fight and she was staying the night at my house. And as for Negan, I assure you that we are just friends. I told Jolyon we were very good friends, he probably just got confused. It's my fault, I confused him."

"Oh," She nods discerningly, "Okay. Well, I'm sorry your personal business got aired." She offers a sympathetic giggle. "It's not the first time parents have had this happen."

I chuckle, uneasy. "Okay, again, I'm sorry. So, how come he needs to come with me early?"

"Well, it's protocol when a child says that their parent has been displaying some concerning signs, such as drinking, or-"

"Drinking?"

"Well, he mentioned before that you sometimes are not well enough to get out of bed, because you drank 'grown up' drinks."

I stare at her, completely taken back and unsure of how I could possibly explain. "I, um, I sometimes get a little tipsy on the weekends. I'm sort of a lightweight, so I do get light headed easily." There were three lies in what I just said.

"Uh-huh," She nods again, "Well, I'm sure it's nothing, but he has mentioned missing school and work, because you were sick and that you spent Thanksgiving and Christmas in bed."

"I'm sorry," I put a hand out for her to stop, "Do you think that Jolyon's unsafe in my home?"

"No, that's not what I'm suggesting at all!" Jessica quickly claims.

"Then what? He's in a bad environment? I-I can't date, or...occasionally drink?"

"Pippa, I don't want to think that we're investigating you for neglect, or-"

"Investigating?" I sharply look at her blue, dinner plate eyes. "Are you?"

"Well, it's policy we keep records of statements that we find concerning, but I completely trust that-"

"Records?" I scoff, flabbergasted. "Concerning statements? He's four, aren't you taking this all out of context?"

"Well, it's just policy, Pippa," Jessica tells me in a calm voice, "Especially, when the parents are not living together. If ever one parent decides to file for custody over the other, the courts sometimes like to see outside evidence that-"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, trying to remain level-headed. "Jolyon's father is not filing for anything and what evidence are you talking about?"

"Look, I think Jolyon is very happy," She states, "He's a great, smart little boy and I can tell you try your hardest to make sure he's happy. It's just policy, state law, that we write down things that may or may not be concerning. If we ignored any signs that were even the slightest bit worrisome, we wouldn't be doing our jobs."

I lick my lips, angry, but I sigh. "Okay, I understand that."

"I am not in anyway implying that you are negligent, or putting your son in an unhealthy environment. I know that parents date and drink. But I just want to let you know, one teacher to the other, that we have to document things like this. I want to send Jolyon home early, just because we had to ask him some questions to make sure he felt safe and loved and I find that it does the child good to take a short day afterwards. If and only if I don't find any reason not to let him go home."

I sigh again, mildly relieved, but still on edge. "Okay, thank you."

"Okay?" She smiles, putting a comforting hand on my arm. "I didn't mean to make you think that we were accusing you of neglect, or abuse. I don't think that's the case at all."

"Alright."

The sound of a car closing draws Jessica's sweet eyes towards the windows. I see her cute smile fade, which makes me check over my shoulder. Negan's striding up to the door. Is he fucking kidding me right now? He opens the door.

"You almost done?" He taps his watch. "We've got five minutes 'til bell."

"Hi!" Jolyon jovially waves at him, running over to him with his backpack on.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, could you take Jolyon and get him all buckled in?"

"Sure, let's go, kid." Negan grins over at Jessica. "Hey, Jess."

"Hello, Negan." She greets back, nervous.

"See ya around." Negan winks, before smirking at me and then taking Jolyon out.

Jessica watches him go, obviously a little distracted. I clear my throat. "Um, I'm going to coach softball this year and so he and I were having lunch, so he could give me some pointers on how...to do that."

She blinks back to me and smiles. "That sounds like fun!"

"Yeah, yeah," I smile, "So, do I need to sign him out?"

"Oh, yes, sorry."

I sign my son out, give my kindest sounding goodbyes, and leave to get back to my car. I act as calmly as I can, just in case she's watching me from inside of the school. I'm actually both livid and pining for a strong drink. God, I hope my breath didn't reek of alcohol in there. I also hope I didn't make myself look like the type of parent who should be investigated. I didn't mean to lose my cool, but in all fairness, how the hell was I suppose to react? And I don't know why it was necessary to send him home. What am I supposed to do with Jolyon while I'm teaching?

I get in the car and buckle my seatbelt in silence. Negan watches me. "You wanna go any fucking slower?"

"Shut up," I start the car, "I asked you to wait in the car."

"Yeah, well, you didn't tell me it'd take this long to get the shrimp."

"Well, I had to handle some things."

"Mom, do I get to go to work with you?" Jolyon asks from the back.

"Yeah, you do," I smile into the rearview mirror, "I think we might see if Diane can watch you, okay?"

"Can I have a lollipop?"

"If she offers you one, sure."

"Yay!"

"Yay."

"Everything alright?" Negan asks.

"I don't know, but I'll tell you later." I park in my spot just as the bell rings. "Alright, let's get you to the front office."

"Hey," Lourdes calls behind me, "Where'd you go?"

"We," Negan answers before me, getting out of the car, "Went to Happy Hands to fetch the kid."

She gives him a sneering face, then looks back at me. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine." I open the back door.

"Hi, Lourdes!"

"Hey, sweetheart!" She waves. "What are you gonna do with him?"

"Uh, I was gonna see if Diane could keep him in the office."

"I wanna go with Lourdes!" Jolyon says as I unbuckle him. "Please!"

"He could stay with me."

"Oh, Lour, I don't want to bother you."

She rolls her eyes, smiling. "My students are working in groups on projects. I'll literally be sitting at my desk for the rest of the day."

"Uh...Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun."

I look down at Jolyon in contemplation. "You promise to be good for Lourdes?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, fine, but you better pinky swear." I hold my pinky out.

"Pinky swear." He locks his pinky with mine.

"Alright, let's go."

"Can I hold your hand?" Jolyon asks Lourdes.

"I would love it if you held my hand." She smiles, taking his hand.

"Where were you, Ms. Alvarado?" Negan inquires of Lourdes with a taunting tone.

"I was having lunch with my mother, asshole." She quietly snaps.

"You were?" I turn my head towards her.

"Yeah, she wanted to see if I wanted to come to dinner on Sunday."

"That's great!"

"Is Pilar finally gonna ditch your asshole dad?" Negan chimes in.

"None of your business!" Lourdes snaps. "I'll see you after school, Pip."

"Yeah, bring him to me, if he's too much trouble."

"Okay. Come on, bebé." Lourdes swings Jol's hand as they turn down the hall towards her classroom.

I look at Negan. "You really should stop pestering her."

"Why? It's fun and so easy!"

I shake my head. "Prick," I adjust my purse strap, "You know her mom?"

"Met her once or twice before," He nonchalantly replies, "Her dad's a total dick and I let him know, after he called his daughter a whore." He chuckles to himself. "Lourdes and I had some pretty hot sex after that."

"Hm, sounds pretty serious for a non-serious fling." I teasingly smirk, before entering my classroom.

...

"Are you mad at me?"

I shake my head as I spruce up the bathroom counter. "No, honey, I'm not mad, but remember when I told you that we weren't going to talk about my very good friends, or sex?"

"Oh, yeah," Jolyon glances at the rubber shark he's holding in the bath, "I forgot. Sorry."

"That's okay, but please try to remember next time that we keep those things private."

"Okay, Mommy."

"Okay," I peer anxiously over at him from the mirror of the medicine cabinet, "Hey, Jol, you know you can tell me if anything's bothering you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Even if it's something I've done or said," I tell him, sitting down the stool by the tub, "If I ever do, or say something that makes you sad, or...mad, you can tell me, okay?"

"Okay." He says, half occupied with his bath toys.

"I mean it, Jolyon," My tone gets his attention, "Even if you think I won't like it, I want you to tell me."

"Okay, Mom."

"Okay," I mouth, reaching over to pet his wet curls, "I love you, Jolyon. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy." He looks over and smiles to prove it. "See?"

I chuckle, holding back tears. "I do see. I'm happy that you're happy."

My cell phone rings on the counter, so I rise up to answer it. However, when I look at the caller i.d., I choose to ignore it. I don't have time for that shit. Nothing good can come from answering.

...

March rolls in and like magic, the weather instantly starts to warm up. I'm glad for it, though. Not to sound all sappy, but I'm looking forward to spring and the supposed "new beginnings" it's rumored to bring. I'm about a week away from hosting softball tryouts and I'm actually looking forward to it. It'll be nice, despite Negan's joking remarks about how the winning streak had to break sometime. He jokes, but truth of the matter is I think that he's a wee bit pissed that he won't get to coach that team this year, now that Avery's handed the reasonability over to me. It's like his "thing" that I assume must make him feel good about himself and I came in and pulled it out from under him. He shouldn't a baby about it; it's one team.

Lucille had another out of town conference thing to go to this weekend, something that he said happens more and more in the springtime. I think he originally planned on tagging along, not that he relayed that to me if he was, but Lucille told him that there was no room in her itinerary for the trip to involve any sort of pleasure. Strictly business. I have to admit, while I don't know Lucille tremendously well, I think I like her. She's definitely a force that knows how to keep Negan on his toes.

Since he wasn't invited to go along, Negan wanted to take me to out. It's not a date, let's make that crystal clear. Under no circumstances can what we have planned be considered a date. I think the fact that he's married is clearly the key as to why it can't ever be called that. It's just plain, good 'ol fashioned adultery. A little wining and dining, before he takes me back to my place. His place is obviously out of the question and to be fair, I would never go there with him. Even he invited me, which he never will.

Despite the fact that this is most certainly not a date, I told my parents I was going on a date, though I didn't say with whom. My dad's already met Negan, but I'm not sure if he managed to catch the ring on his finger. Plus, if Audrey found out, she'd flip and probably tell our parents their youngest daughter's a homewrecker. Not that I think I am. It takes two to tango and I'm not the one who already had a dancing partner, so the majority of the blame is on Negan's shoulders. Don't tell me that that doesn't excuse my half of the involvement, because I don't want to hear it right now.

I didn't even tell Jolyon who I was going to dinner with, lest he be inclined to inform anyone of mine and Negan's shenanigans. I dropped him off at Mom and Dad's an hour ago, much to his delight. That kid loves spending the night at other people's houses. While I was never a fearful child, I hated sleepovers until I reached middle school. I never liked being under the law of other people's house rules. Except, Dwight's house. I liked being there as well as I liked being in my own home, but that's probably because we were best friends and I loved Caroline, so I didn't mind being fairly obedient. The sleepovers obviously stopped when we got older.

Negan didn't mention where we were going, only that we obviously couldn't go anywhere in Southcastle. I suggested skipping places in Camden, too, since I don't want anyone talking just as much as he doesn't. I don't know where we're going, so I'm not sure what to wear. Sexy undergarments, check, but what to conceal them with? I pin half of my hair back into a bun as I contemplate. My aesthetic has never been aimed at looking hot for some tool. I settle with a black dress, a sage cardigan, and a pair of booties. Just in time, because the doorbell rings right as I'm zipping up my left boot.

"Coming!" I call out, as I walk into the hall, fixing an earring to my ear. He rapidly hits the button three more times, just to be annoying. "Asshole!"

As I open the door, I'm met with his annoyingly cocky grin. "Well, don't you look nice."

"Nice?" I scoff, looking him over. "Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise." He sarcastically retorts. "You'll have to wait and see."

I roll my eyes, stalking back into my house. "I don't get into cars with strange men."

"Good thing I'm not a stranger then."

"I didn't say you were a stranger, I said you were strange."

"Well, I can't argue that."

"So, should I change?" I ask him, arching my brow. "You look so causal and I'm-"

"If you think what you're wearing counts as fancy dinner attire, then you are out of your fucking mind. Looks something you wear at work."

"Well, you look like you step out of a Levi catalog."

"I don't know if that's an insult, or a fuckin' compliment."

"Neither do I," I exhale, "So, where are we going?"

"Beats the fuck out of me." He shrugs, leaning against my sink. "I don't know where the hell to go that's neither here nor there."

"I thought you said it was a surprise?"

"I lied, I have no clue."

I cross my arms, thinking. "I know someplace we can go."

...

"Let me see if I can get this straight," Negan huffs as he drives, "We're going to a Denny's?"

"No," I turn the dial up on the heat, "We're going to this place across the street from a Denny's."

"What place?'

"I don't remember what it's called, but I know it's there."

"Wait, you've never fucking been to it?" Negan looks over at me. "How the fuck do you know it's good and that we won't get food poisoning?"

"Don't be dramatic," I chuckle, "I saw it there whenever I use to go to the Denny's and I always wanted to go."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I really hope it's worth it."

"It will be."

Or maybe it won't be. When we finally get there, we find that the place closed three years ago and a new tavern has replaced it. All fantasies of going there and lighthearted excitements are crushed.

"Well, this was a complete waste of fuckin' gas." Negan grumbles.

I stare at the wannabe hipster bar, quietly devastated. "Yeah." I smooth out my dress. "I guess we could go there instead."

"I'm not taking you into a bar," Negan scoffs, "Nice fuckin' try."

"We could go to Denny's."

"I hate Denny's."

"They serve breakfast all hours." I corral.

He glances over at me. "Well, I don't want to drive around for another thirty minutes, so I guess I don't have a fucking choice, do I?"

"Guess not."

We go to the chain restaurant and order almost immediately. I say almost, because Negan took forever on purpose just to prove a point that he doesn't care for the place. I'm sort of happy to be here actually; it helps me forget about the disappointment. I asked the waitress if we could sit in the booth I use to sit at, where there'd be a perfect view of the restaurant across the street.

"My old boyfriend and I use to come here when we were in high school," I smile out the window, "I use to picture us going to there back when it was a restaurant."

"Should've gone when you had the chance." Negan reclines his arm on the back of his booth seat.

"Yeah, but I was waiting for the perfect time." I swirl the sugar in my ice tea.

"What perfect timing?"

I twist my mouth to the side. "Never mind. You'll laugh at me."

"I will not." Negan swears with a concerning grin on his face.

"I don't believe you."

"Cross my heart, hope to die." He even makes the gestures of crossing his finger over his heart for good measure.

I sigh, "I thought we'd go there when we were married. Like someplace we'd go when wanted a break from the...kids," I sigh silently, feeling foolish, "But as you can see, that didn't happen."

He's smile remains plain, but I get the sense he's trying not to laugh. "Your high school boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Is he the one who you were-"

"Yes, Negan, he's the one Jolyon told you and apparently his whole class about." I glance down at the table, "I don't want to talk about him, though."

"He married someone else, huh?" Negan sucks air in through his teeth. "Ouch."

"Shut up," I glare at him, "I said I don't want to talk about it."

Negan exhales through his nose. "What about Jol's dad? You never thought of marrying him? Especially after he got you pregnant?"

I scoff, chuckling. "No, I never thought of marrying Eugene, just because I got knocked up."

"So, it was an accident," He looks at me, "You didn't mean to."

"No, no, of course not," I lean back in my seat, "We barely knew each other. Met at some educational conference in Dallas. I only went, so I'd have an excuse as to why I couldn't come home for my birthday."

"Oh, and let me guess," Negan grins, "You got drunk in the hotel bar and had sex with this guy with one of those stupid conference lanyards."

"Bingo." I laugh, before the waitress brings us our food. "Thanks."

"Enjoy."

"Was he smooth?"

"Are you asking if he wooed me?" I snicker, salting my hash browns. "No, he most certainly did not. Eugene's not the wooing type. Socially awkward doesn't even begin to describe it. He did show me this cool science trick, though."

"Oh, so you made some nerd's night?"

I shrug. "To be honest, I'm not sure he ever had sex before then."

"How old is he?"

"He's thirty-six, so he was thirty-three, maybe thirty-two at the time. Little older than me."

"Damn, I think I feel sorry for the poor bastard," Negan chuckles, "The first gal he ever screwed was you. A boozed harpy with misdirected anger."

"Real funny," I roll my eyes, "And I was the one who didn't most of the screwing, thank you very much. Like I said, he was sort of a nervous fellow, so I had to teach him."

Negan growls with a smile. "Oh, tell me more."

I grin, "I found out I was pregnant three weeks later."

"I meant more about the sex, but okay."

"Pervert," I laugh out, "It was awkward. He touched me like I would break. He just sat there on the bed, but when I would stop, he'd ask me to keep going.

"I bet he did," Negan smirks, "You definitely know how to melt a dick between your legs."

I abruptly spit a little of my tea out in shock. I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh so hard. Negan laughs himself, especially when the waitress brings some extra napkins, asking if I was okay.

"I can't believe you said that."

"Really? I think you've known me long enough," Negan chuckles while cutting his food, "So, that was that? You fucked once and got pregnant, then what? You tracked him down?"

I slice my omelet with the side of my fork. "It wasn't hard. He told me what school he taught science at, so I called and had the receptionist transfer me over. I asked if we could meet halfway on the weekend and I broke the news to him in a place similar to this."

"And he wanted nothing to do with you, until after Jolyon was born and then that's only when it's convenient for him."

I shake my head. "No, you're wrong."

"Then why the hell is he such an absentee asshole now?"

"It's complicated, alright?" I glance back at my food. "Better left for some other time."

"...Ookay."

"What about you and Lucille?" I curiously ask. "How did you meet?"

Negan shifts causally in his seat. "I met her a few months after college. My first job after graduating was teaching gym at the elementary school."

"Oh, those poor babies." I smile.

He cackles. "That's why they suggested I move up."

"Lucille taught elementary?"

"Yep, fourth grade, 'til she became the principal."

"And it was love at first sight?" I mildly tease.

"No, she fuckin' hated me," Negan proudly smiles, "Said I was too hard on the kids."

"Well, I can't imagine she was a liar."

"Nope."

"So, when she did she finally change her mind about you."

"Who says she has?" We both chuckle, until Negan sighs heavily. "I don't know. I use to fuck with her, because it was funny. Not like she couldn't give it right back to me. One day, I asked her if she'd like to go to dinner with me, after she told me I would die alone because I was an asshole to the librarian I was screwing until she broke things off with me."

"I take it you were and I take it she read more into the relationship than you did?"

"I thought we were just having fun, until she asked me to meet her parents," He replies, "In my defense, I did let her down gently."

"What you think is gentle and what other people think is gentle are too totally different things, Negan."

He looks at me peculiarly and smiles. "That is uncanny as shit."

"What?" I furrow my brows.

"That's almost word for fucking word what Lucille told me."

"She's a smart lady."

He bites the corner in his lip in thought, nodding. "Yeah."

"...Anyway?"

"Anyway," He continues his story, "I said she should go to dinner with me, so I can prove that I'm not an asshole and she took me by surprise and agreed to go." His eyes peer down in what looks like fond memory by the smallness of his smile. "I thought she had an angle, but we actually had good time."

I nod my head. "When did you know she was the one. I mean the one you wanted to marry, since she's obviously not the only one in your life."

Negan scoffs. "Asshole," He then exhales after thinking for a moment, "I didn't know I wanted to marry her, until after I proposed."

My brows puzzle. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, we had only been dating for about four months when she pulled me aside one morning at work and told me that she thought she might be pregnant."

"Oh."

"Yeah and I wanted to do the right thing, despite being scared shitless, so I asked her to marry me while we waited for the pee stick to tell us. Sort of jumped the gun."

I nod in understanding. "She wasn't pregnant."

"Nope, but I was young and I panicked."

I smile a little, picturing a younger, perhaps less level-headed Negan that lost his cool over the possibility of entering the swirling vortex of parenthood. "So, you didn't take back the offer of marriage when it turned up negative, huh?"

"Well, she didn't technically say yes," Negan chuckles, staring back down in thought, "When I proposed, she asked me if I was crazy. We didn't even know the results yet."

I laugh under my breath. "Atta girl."

"No shit," He smiles, "Anyway, I remember feeling a little disappointed when she didn't say yes. Then after it turned out she wasn't pregnant, she turned to me and said; 'So, you still want to marry me, or you gonna pussy out?'" We both laugh. "So, I told her I'd have her if no one else would and she fuckin' said that she could do way better and then fucking told me to go home with this sly little smirk on her face."

"Sounds like you met your match."

"Sure as hell did," He takes a drink from his water, "We continued seeing each other after that and three months later, I asked her again and she said that if no one else would have me then, yes, she would marry me."

I grin lightly, "Nice."

"Yeah..."

"When did you know that you loved her?"

"I don't know," Negan shrugs, honest, "I just did, you know? I don't think I ever had one of those light bulb moments, where I realized that I love that woman. I just did. I loved her and I didn't know when it happened and I didn't wonder either. I loved her and that was all I fuckin' needed to know."

I stare at him with soft, but steadfast eyes. This is the first time that I've liked Negan without also thinking he's a complete asshole. "She must have been quite the lady for you to ask twice."

He looks up at me and our eyes transfix on one another. He then slowly starts to glance away. "Yeah..."

I push my fork around on my plate. "You wanna get the check and go?"

"Yeah."

...

We don't go back to my house right away. I have him stop off on the way at Lorelei's, since I didn't really eat and I smoked a joint before we left Denny's, so now I could really use some pie. Negan parks out front, but I don't get out of the car just yet.

"What are you waiting for?"

My eyes blink from the red neon sign of the wine and spirits store across the street. "Give me a chance to get out, will ya?"

Negan looks to the left, where I had been looking. "You know, if you make a mad dash for that store, you'll probably have time to get a couple gulps down of some gin before I drag you out."

"Ha-ha," I sneer, "Real cute."

"Hurry up," Negan insists, "I wanna get ho- back to your place soon."

I chuckle. "Is your magic blue pill gonna wear off soon?"

He can't help but to break into a small snicker. "Just go, you smart ass."

"You want anything?"

"No, just go."

"Alright, alright, I'm..." I trail off when I catch a glimpse of Dwight's truck parked in a spot on the right side parking lot. My eyes immediately dart to the diner, searching for him. I don't see him though. But I do see Sherry sitting alone at one of the far right booths. He has to be here.

"Go, Pip!" Negan lightly shoves me.

"Okay!" I get out and sheepishly walk towards the front door.

"Hey!"

I look over. "What?"

He extends his arm out the window, holding my purse. "Your purse."

"Oh...yeah." I walk over and take it. "Thanks."

"What's with you?" He callously asks. "You look act like the diner's full of cannibals."

"Shut up, I am not." I tread back to the door with a little more confidence, though I'm not so cool.

The door's bell jingles and I'm instantly greeted by the old music. I nervously smile and wave at the waitress, who recognizes me right away. I only make it so far, about two feet from the door, before I see him. He exits the bathroom and navigates through the diner to get back to his table and his wife. Just like that, just a split, unguarded second and it all just rushes back, sweeping me to the ground. Like a stunned coward, I go from not moving to swiftly retreating in just the same amount of time it took for Dwight to unknowingly floor me. I stalk back to Negan's car and plop myself down in the passenger's seat, pulling the seatbelt across me.

"What the hell?" Negan gripes, bewildered.

"I changed my mind," I explain, "Just go."

"The fuck's your problem?" He inquires, furrowed brows. "You fuckin' just stopped like a deer in the goddamn headlights and ran for it."

"I'm fine, just go." I dare to peer inside and it proves to be an unwise decision. He must have seen me as I was coming back to Negan's car, because Dwight's looking right at me from where he sits.

"Whatever." Negan sighs, starting the car and taking me away from here.

"God," I rub my temples, "I need a drink."

It's a silent drive home for the most part. I think he can pick up on me better than I'd like him to. I just sit and wonder why he hasn't questioned me, while also begging internally that he won't. We finally get back to my house and I hope I didn't kill the mood with my skittish behavior. We both get out of the car and are quiet as we go up my porch steps. I unlock the door and we enter the dark house, save for the kitchen light I always keep on when I'm not home.

"You want something to drink?" I ask him, walking into my kitchen.

"Sure."

I take up the thermos I usually take to work off the counter, twist the top off and take a big drink from it. "Water, or...milk? I've also got juice boxes."

"And gin," Negan scoffs, "Where's it at?"

"I don't have any."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep," I put my hand on the counter, "You dumped it all, remember?"

"You bought more and then didn't show up for work the next day, remember?"

I bite my corner lip. "I drank it all."

"Huh," Negan nods, sticking his tongue in his cheek, "Hold out your hands."

"What?"

He puts his hands out in front of him. "Put your fuckin' hands out like this."

I huff, rolling my eyes. "Okay, but I don't see what you're getting at." I set the thermos down.

Negan steps forward when I hold my hands out for him. "Palms down." I switch them over. His eyes only have to glance at them briefly, before he looks up at me with a sternly cocked brow. "Your hands aren't shaking."

"So."

"I notice your hands shake a little when you haven't had anything to drink and since they're not, I'm fuckin' guessing you've got it in the house."

I bring my hands back to me. "I smoked a joint before we left the diner, so it took the edge off."

Negan stares, unconvinced, before moving around me towards me pantry. "Where's it at?'

I turn around. "You can't just go through my shit, man!"

He opens the door anyway and rifles through everything. When he doesn't find anything, he goes for the cupboards next. Angry, I march over to him and pull his arm away from the cupboard door.

"Stop it!" I try to get him to quit, but he's determined. "Negan, fucking stop!"

"It's for your own fucking good." He moves on to the lower cabinets.

"I can decide what's good for me myself, asshole!"

Negan rises and spies the thermos. "Give me the thermos."

"It...it's my water from work, Negan. I bring it every fucking day."

"If it's just water, then hand it to me."

"No."

He reaches around me and snatches it up, before I can save it. He takes a few steps back when I try to take it as he screws the lid of. Negan brings the open container up to his nose, then looks at me, fuming. "It's fucking gin. Jesus Christ, you are fuckin' drinking at work!"

Caught, I hold my elbows and look away, bitterly prideful. "Mind your own business."

Negan curses under his breath, before going over to the sink and dumping the contents of the thermos down the drain. "Where's the rest, huh? In your bedroom?"

"Fuck you."

"So, it is." Negan strides out of my kitchen and down my halls.

"Negan!" I go right after him to my bedroom.

By time I get there, he's already found the bottle I hid in my dresser, which is where he must have looked first. I kept it there, so Jolyon wouldn't be able to reach it. The light of my bathroom is on, so I tread in to find him pouring it down the drain.

"You fucking asshole!" I furiously stomp over to him and hit his arm. "Why did you do that? You had no right!"

"Who the fuck lives like this, huh?" He shouts back, livid. "You tell me, why the fuck would anyone want to fucking keep a bottle of fucking gin on them at all times, just so they can keep their motherfucking hands from shaking? Why do you wanna live like that, Pippa?"

"I don't!"

"Then why the fuck are you?"

"I..." Exhausted, anguished tears burst up, "I have to!"

"Why?" Negan scoffs, annoyed. "Why do you have to?"

"Because I do!"

"That's not a fuckin' answer," He growls, "So, fucking answer me. Why the hell do you continue to wreck yourself, when you know goddamn well you've got a problem and it's affecting your kid."

I sob silently, gazing at his dark eyes. "They were at the diner." Negan knits his brows. "Him and his wife. He saw me. I...I think she might be pregnant. He told me they were gonna try and I think..." More tears well up. "I think she might be."

"Well, that-"

"You don't understand!" I slam my hands on his chest, "I've given him so much of me that it hurts! Now it'll all mean nothing! I'll mean nothing to him and he will leave me behind in the dark!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He grabs up my hands.

"I-I c-can't breathe!" I collapse into him, hyperventilating.

Negan, confused, puts his arm around me and then the other as he tries to make sense of what I'm sputtering out. I uncontrollably wail against him, inconsolable.

"I love him. I have always loved him."

Negan's hand soothingly brushes the back of my head as he exhales. "You have to move on, Pippa."

"I can't! I've spent thirteen years trying to move on, but I'm stuck, Negan. I'm fucking stuck."

"Well, this asshole clearly has," He moves me back so we can meet eyes, "Why are you holding on to someone who fuckin' let you go long ago?"

"He...he didn't," I croak, "He told me he thinks about me."

"Yeah and he's starting a family with his wife, so so much for that."

I tear up, dismayed. "I was suppose to be his wife once." Negan eyes me up, while I sniff back my those tears. "We had it all figured out and then...it didn't happen."

Negan sighs, "That was thirteen fucking years ago, Pippa. You were kids with cupie doll dreams that got popped by reality."

I lower my blurry eyes. "...Yeah."

"Once those dreams are gone, Pip, they're fucking gone and you can't make up for 'em by holding out hope that they'll circle back for you. 'Cause they won't." I nod my head like a sad child. "This guy you pined after for all these years hitched his trailer to another woman's and fucking left you in the dust. Just because he goes to fucks you and tells you what you want to hear, doesn't mean he's gonna do anymore than just that."

"I...I didn't expect him to leave her."

"But you expected more than he was willing to give, right?"

I huff, "How are you any different?"

Negan looks off for a second, sighing, before blinking back to me. "I might be an asshole who's cheating on my wife with you and I might an asshole in general, but I've never fucking told you anything that I didn't mean just to keep you strung along."

"You're such a liar."

"Not about that," He firmly states, "I might fuck with you, but I never fucking built up any hopes of us riding off into the fuckin' sunset together, have I?"

"N-no, but neither did he."

"Maybe not, but he knew how you felt and screwed around with you anyway, knowing that he had someone else to go home to, while you wait for him to come around again. But you know that, don't you? You know that he only ever gave you what was needed to get his rocks off and then he'd say he has go home with a chip on his shoulder."

I lower my gaze. God, I hate to admit it, but; "Yes."

"Uh-huh," Negan huskily confirms, "Look, you're a grown woman and I can't make you do fuck all, but you need to let him go and move the fuck on with your life. Get sober and stay sober. Not just for you, but for your boy, because he needs you to teach him how to be strong. And you are strong, Pippa. You're strong because you've been weak."

I lift my eyes up to his again. "I don't want to be weak anymore."

Negan places his hands on my shoulder. "Then stop letting your weaknesses get the better of you. Take control and use 'em to build your strength."

I can't help but to just stare back at him. His eyes are enduringly fixed, both waiting for me to answer and to express how candid he is. I nod my head finally. "Okay," I rasp, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," I lick salty tears from the corner of my mouth, still nodding, "I wanna do it. I wanna get clean, I wanna be strong."

Negan moves his hand up towards my face and breaks into a gentle smile, tucking some hair behind my ears. "Okay."

I smile back, touching my hand to his. His smile tenderly fades as he leans down to kiss me. I let my other arm hook around his neck as we proceed.

...

My alarm clock goes off around it's usual time the next morning. I tap the button and shift my body in a light snooze. As I roll over to the other side, I take a deep, yawn like inhale. That's when I get the faint scent of cologne and by this point my foot has become aware of a warm leg. It moves slightly and then the rest of the body it's attached to moves as well. I open my eyes and find Negan laying on his back with his eyes closed.

We're both clothed and I don't remember having sex last night. Because we didn't. I felt so drained after the conversation/argument we had in my bathroom that I told him I didn't feeling like doing anything other than sleeping. He didn't try to hound, or sway me into changing my mind. He nodded and told me to go to bed, kissing me on the lips. And then I asked him to stay, since he looked almost as tired as I was. It was the first time in a long time that I had a man in my bed who I didn't have sex with prior to falling asleep.

The door to my bedroom creaks ever so slightly open and the small patter of steps signal the entrance of my cat. Not a second later, Pip leaps up onto the bed and walks over Negan to reach me. He meows in my face, then purrs as he begins to knead the bed.

"Your cat's here." Negan informs me with his eyes still closed.

"I know." I scratch Pip behind the ear. He meows and meows again.

"Shut the fuck up." Negan groans.

I snicker. "Don't tell my cat to shut up." Pip meows, as if agreeing with me.

"This is why I hate cats," He raises a brow, "They're fuckin' annoying. Make him cut the damn meowing."

"It's morning, which means he's ready to be fed." I rise, scooping the cat up in my arms and taking him into the kitchen to feed him.

Once that's all done, I pad back to the bedroom. Negan's eyes are open now and they find me as I renter. I go around to my side of the bed and lay back down, propping my head up on my arm.

"You happy? The cat's in the kitchen."

"That son of bitch kept me up all night with his fucking meowing and wandering in and fuckin' out of this room."

"He does that when Jolyon's not here," I smile, "I mean, he's a cat, so he's pretty independent, but whenever Jol's gone, he acts all displaced."

"Well, that's not my fuckin' problem."

I lightly laugh. "Well, you're a visitor and he's a cat, so don't be such a dick."

"Tell that to your damn cat, he's the dick that was howling all fucking night."

"I mean, I could, but I don't think he'll understand."

Negan snickers. "So, you still feelin' good about what you said last night?" He turns his head to look at me.

I smile, "Yeah."

"Good."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet," He replies, "You aren't out of the woods."

"I meant thank you for everything you said. I needed to hear it."

"Yeah, you did," Negan agrees, "I'm glad you realized that and want to take it serious this time."

"Yeah, I do."

"What time's the kid gettin' dropped off?"

"Probably eight, eight-thirty."

He grins, shifting so that I'll lay back, while he moves over me. "Well, since we've got some time to kill."

I chuckle, touching his arm. "Don't you have to beat Lucille home?"

"Nah, she's not coming home until Sunday afternoon."

"Oh, well, in that case..." I move my hand to his side, trailing up, "Maybe you could hang around a little longer and we could fool around on Jolyon's down time."

He breathes a small, husky laugh. "I doubt we'd be able to pull it off, the way the bed tends to hit the wall when we're fucking."

I cackle. "We could move the bed away from the wall."

"And your moaning?" He leans down and puts his mouth on my neck. "I like to hear you moan."

My hand rests on the back of his head as my body fidgets at the feeling he's sending through me. "I guess you'd have to give it to me nice and slow."

"Mm," He plants a kiss behind my ear, "Would you like that?"

"Yeah," I close my eyes, "But I'm not a fool."

"Sure about that?" He teases.

I snicker softly, "Yeah. I know you don't want to do that. It's okay."

"What do I want to do with you?"

My fingers graze through his hair. "You want to fuck me, not make love to me."

Negan stops kissing me and then brings himself up. His eyes look down at me with what appears to be either concern, or maybe question.

I just peer up at him, no intent behind my words, other than to acknowledge that I know where I stand in his life. "It's okay," I murmur, "You don't love me. You love Lucille. You only make love to people that you love."

He exhales, looking off to the side.

"It's alright," I reassure him, touching his chest, "Like you said; you never made that unclear to me. I don't mind, I just like being with you. You can be rough, if that helps separate her and I."

Negan turns his head forward again, gazing at me. I offer him an earnest smile to prove I mean what I say. He continues to stare without a word. I stare back and angle my head a little after a few moments, furrowing my brows slightly as I think I discover a hint of confliction in his eyes.

"You okay?"

He sticks his tongue in his cheek, before slightly nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay." I mouth, sliding my hand along his virile flesh.

Negan's eyes flicker down at my hand's movement, before he blinks back to me. He then shifts his leg over, so he's got one knee between my legs. He comes down until we're face to face, hovering above my lips for a second or two, before I lift my head up a bit and he collides our mouths together. The impact makes me allow my head to fall back onto the pillow. His body movements become more like their usual rough, lusting manner. He removes his shirt and I do the same, having his expedient help as I pull it over my head. Next, he reaches under the blankets and his fingers dig at my panties and rudely tug them down, until I do the rest. He sits back, unbuckling his belt.

"Take your bra off."

I sit up a little to unhook the back. When the straps slide off my shoulders, Negan swiftly pulls the bra off me, throwing it behind him. I lay back down and he towers over me, taking my lips. My hands travel, until he takes one and pins it down by the wrists. I let out a loud moan, wantonly bringing my naked body to his. All of the sudden, Negan pauses and looks at me funny again. My breasts heave with all the arousal he's put through me, even though I'm trying to determine what he's doing, or rather why he's not doing what he should be doing.

"Negan?"

He blinks at the sound of his name and clears his throat. "Get a condom."

I shift under him to get into the bottom drawer of my nightstand to fish one out. I open the package, while feeling so anxious that he's watching me. I pluck the rolled condom out of the little square wrapper and since he's evidently not gonna put his hand out for it, I reach under the covers. When I find him, he groans with this mouth closed. I roll it onto his penis and our eyes meet briefly, before I lie back.

Negan hesitates to move at first, but when he does it's not what I expected. I figured we'd continue to go hot and heavy and I think he was planning on that, too. But he when he brings his lips close to mine, he delays kissing me, almost like he had a split second thought. His eyes look me over, before he tilts his head a little as if to kiss me. I meet him halfway and our mouths brush lightly, until I kiss him once. He finally reciprocates with the same amount of tenderness, to my surprise.

We softly make out for god knows how long, but I don't grow tired of it. I don't groan inwardly when his body carefully pins mine down as he deepens the kiss. And I don't hate the way his hand caresses my skin without any intentions of groping me. When he reaches my breast, he cups it, instead of greedily taking it like a horny teenager. Negan moves his mouth around my lips, face, neck, and décolleté, as I hold my arm around him.

My free hand traipses down and I softly stroke him, while he groans and continues to kiss me. As my hand moves up and down, I feel him buckle into me. He lets out a breathless moan, before reuniting our lips. His breath reverberates in mine, as his hand takes hold of the back of my knee and brings it up and around him. I remove my hand and let our eyes meet again as he gradually enters me. I weakly, sharply mewl as he gives me little by little.

He observes my face, before he starts to thrust his hips. I tilt my head back into the pillow, closing my eyes at the sensation. When his mouth is close, I let him kiss me again as he delves in and out with such deliberate pace. Everything feels so good, better than our past romps. It all comes with such lingering, pleasuring aches and hitches in breathing. Whenever I feel like I'm about to feel that climb to the top, it all unravels, only to gloriously start over.

If Negan's unhappy, or bored with this pace, he doesn't convey it. He moans with almost every buck of his hips and I can hear the heaving of his breath right as he's on the verge of letting out another sound of pleasure. My hand reaches behind me and against the iron of my bed frame. Negan puts his over mine as we both moan at the same time. He clasps it and I consequently close my fingers around the design of the frame. I can tell I'm close and I think he can too, because he picks up the pace only slightly.

"Oh," I shallowly breath, "Oh, Negan."

Negan responds by returning his mouth to mine and thrusting a little deeper. A swift mewl leaves my mouth and I remove my hand from the bed frame and place it under his arm and around to his back, encouraging him to keep going. And like that, I'm suddenly struck silent, mouth agape. He continues to buck in and out of me, so it's a good few seconds, until I can breathe again and when I do, it's choppy, weak, but loud. I manage to form an opened mouth smile. It's like stars burst into a universe and lit up bright within me. Negan grunts, seizing forward and then thrusting a few more time, until he can't anymore. His body comes back down against mine and I wrap my arms around him, holding him. The smell of his cologne and sweat perfumes my nose.

After a couple panting breaths against my skin, he pushes himself. I look up at him, trying to catch my breath. He peers down at me, as if wondering how he did, or how I feel. I smile, starry eyed, breaking into a raspy chuckle, which gets him going. He smiles and lightly kisses me. I kiss him back.

A phone rings in the middle of our little make out, but it's not mine. The ring tone sounds like the beginning of Beethoven's Fifth Harmony, played over again after the first line. Negan lifts his head and looks over to the other nightstand, where his cell phone is buzzing and playing that tune.

He sighs over me, then looks back to me. "It's Lucille. I gotta take it."

"Do you think she's coming home early?"

"Lucille?" He chuckles, "Not unless she's dying."

"Okay," I nod my head, "Go ahead."

Negan climbs off me and grabs his phone, answering. "Hey."

I lay there for a second, before deciding to get up and go to the bathroom to give him some privacy.

"Yeah, I slept okay," He replies to her, "Did you?"

I was going to turn on the sink, but I'm not sure if she'd be able to hear in the background, so I don't. I just stand by the sink, looking to the mirror. There's a perspired glow on my face and I can't help but to smile.

"I don't know, let me check." Negan gets up and walks the room. I hear him open and close some drawers. "No, I don't see it...Yeah, I'll check the bathroom." He enters a second later, dressed from the waist down, and grins at me as he opens my medicine cabinet. "Nope, I don't see it, so you had to have taken the bottle with you."

I knit my brows, curiously, though I'm sure I won't have to wait long for an explanation.

"Well, why the fuck didn't you just go buy another bottle? It's melatonin, it's probably at every pharmacy and grocery store."

I pad past him as quietly as possible, smiling to myself, when his hand purposely brushes against my thigh as I do. I throw some pajamas on and leave my bedroom to go to the kitchen. I overhear him talking to her from there, because of his deep voice. It's just the usual chitchat that married couples have, I guess, when one's away from the other. One making sure the other remembered to put the trash cans away after the garbage truck came, or asking if any mail came for them. The other confirming that all the shit that needs to be done is done and then asks how things are going.

"Alright," He says, walking into the kitchen, "I'll call you tonight...Okay, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Alright, call me when you're about to leave. Okay. I love you, too, bye." Negan looks over at me, putting his phone on the table.

I hold my arms. "How are things going at the conference?"

"Swell," He answers, "Real swell."

I smile. "Um, so, I guess you wanna head home?"

"Well, I gotta go put the trash cans in, before fuckin' raccoons knock 'em over," Negan informs me, "And I gotta get the mail."

I snicker under my breath. "Okay," I tuck some curls behind my ear, "I guess, I'll see you at work."

Negan looks at this hands. "Well...I was invited to stay a little longer, but I guess you rudely changed you mind."

I glance him over. "What?"

He scoffs, chuckling, "I thought you wanted me to hang around?"

I start to smile. "Well, yeah, but...I thought..."

"You thought what?"

"...I don't know, I just..." I'm just use to Dwight taking off. "Uh, you're going home."

"Yeah, to do all the stuff I just lied to my wife about already having done. And to shower and change into clean clothes, but I can come back. Unless you changed your mind."

"No, it's just..."I shrug, "What would we do?"

"This is your town, you tell me."

My smiles returns and I softly chuckle. "Okay, um, Jolyon's been wanting to go to the park."

"Sounds like a plan," He scoops up his phone, "Alright, I'll be back around eleven, or so."

"Alright."

Negan winks at me, smiling sincerely, before going to the front door and leaving.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter! Season 8 starts up again soon!**

 **CLTex: I like Pippa and Negan's one on ones, too. As for Dwight and Sherry's news, well all I can say is that it would be distinctly devastating for Pippa, as she vaguely just mentioned this chapter, it is what she thinks it is.**

 **StTudnoBright: Glad you liked Negan getting strict with Jolyon. It might not be his place, but it's Negan, so he doesn't give a shit lol! And I don't think he let Pippa have a momen's peace over stealing a coaching gig from him. It is rather curious how he knew the name of the art class... :)**


	33. Chapter 33

My parents dropped Jolyon off around eight-thirty. They invited us to go to this furniture store about an hour away and then out for lunch, but I turned them down with the excuse of needing to get some errands done. Mom asked me how my date went last night. I told her it went well and that I might see him again, knowing fully well that I will. She was really happy to hear that and it was all I could do to keep from laughing at her for thinking I may have met "the one." After they leave, I put Jolyon in my bathtub, so I can take a shower, while he washes up before Negan comes back.

Negan showed up around noon, like he said he would. I packed a lunch in my igloo and we went to the park. I must admit that I felt a little anxiety on the way there. Jolyon was excited; Negan I assume was somewhat content with going, while I was nervous about being seen in public with him. I mean, I guess it's better that we're in Camden, instead of Southcastle, because there's nobody that'll recognize him. But still, it felt weird to spend a day at the park with him.

He's so good with Jolyon. Well, he's good with Jolyon, but he can still be an asshole about it. Like when they were playing catch, he kept throwing the ball way past Jolyon, so Jol would have to chase it. But then he'd throw him some soft ones that he could catch. I think I did a little better of a job pitching, though, since I'm not an asshole and lightened up my underhand for him. After lunch, Jolyon played on the slides and the swings, which initially he said he could do on his own, but ultimately had me push him a couple of times. That was before Negan said he could do a better job. I don't think I've ever seen Jolyon laugh and smile so much. Hell, I don't think I've laughed and smiled this much at seeing him so joyful.

Five minutes before we left, I went over to the blanket I spread out for our picnic to pack up. As I was doing that, a lady came over and told me what a cute family we were. I didn't know what to say, so I said just thank you. Was I supposed to say; "Oh, no, he's just the man I'm sleeping with while his wife is out of town?"

It did make my stomach a little sick, but not just with guilt, but also flattery. It certainly didn't help that when Negan and Jolyon came up to me, Negan put his arm around me, pecking me on the lips. Jolyon then told me we were racing to the car and then darted towards the parking lot without saying go. I gave Negan my igloo and ran after him, but I let him win.

"He is out like a light."

I snicker through my nose, glancing over my shoulder into the backseat. "You really wore him out, you dick."

"I'm a dick for fuckin' playing catch with your kid?" Negan chuckles as he drives. "There's no pleasing you."

"You're a dick because you threw the ball like you were coaching a high schooler."

"I said go long."

"You weren't playing football." I lean my head in my hand.

"Well, he's down. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I smile, "We're almost home."

"You think he'll stay knocked out?"

"Oh, yeah," I laugh, "Jolyon's a heavy sleeper. He'll sleep for a full hour and a half."

"Wonderful." Negan grins, "That gives us plenty of fucking time. Get it? Fucking time?"

I roll my eyes. "Hilarious."

My phone rings at the bottom of my purse. I fish for it, begging that it won't wake my son up. When I finally reach it, Lourdes' name pops up on the caller i.d.

Negan looks over. "Let it go to voicemail."

"My Saturday is not all about you," I put my finger up before he can protest, "It'll just be a minute."

"Un-fucking-believable," He huffs, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you and her were sleeping together."

I make a face, before answering the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, are you busy?"

"No, I'm not busy." I smile at Negan's look. "What's up?"

"Remember when I said my mother invited me to dinner?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, she didn't mean at the house, apparently," Lourdes relays, "So, we went out for dinner last night and she told me that she was leaving my dad."

"O-oh," I peer over at Negan through the side of my eye, "Um, that's good, right?"

"Yeah, that's good, but he told her that if she left him, she'd be out on her ass," Lourdes gripes, "She asked me to come help her pack today."

"And you need help?'

"No, no, I just...needed someone to talk to."

"Is everything okay?"

"I don't know," She admits with a sigh, "Simon doesn't want her to stay with us, but she's my mom; I can't just tell her no. What if she goes back to my dad?"

"Well, it's your house," I unbuckle my seatbelt, after Negan's pulled into my driveway, "So, tell him too fucking bad."

"I did and he's pissed. Now I'm worried he'll pack his things and leave. Or they'll fight and want me to kick the other out."

"Well, like I said; it's your house. Tell them to shut the fuck up and deal with it, or get out. It's not fair to make you choose."

"Yeah," She lightly chuckles, "Thanks."

"Sure." I let Negan take Jolyon out of his booster seat and up towards the house. "You shouldn't have to give up your peace of mind for others'."

"Yeah...Well, I...I should probably go. I have to drive over now."

"Okay, call me, if you need me."

"Okay, thanks again. Bye."

"Bye." I hang up the phone, dropping it back in my purse. "Fucking hell."

"What?"

I unlock the door and open it. "Lourdes' mother is moving in with her house and Simon's not exactly rolling out the welcome mat."

"Isn't it Lourdes' house?" Negan replies, "I mean, she bought that house way before she met him. Doubt he even fuckin' chips in for the mortgage."

"You don't know that." I chuckle, carefully taking Jolyon from him. I lay him down in his room and then pad out into the living room. "He's a drug dealer, he has to have money."

"Doesn't mean he does," Negan props his feet up on the coffee table, "Plus, if that's what he does for a living, he sure as shit doesn't pay taxes, which means he ain't putting shit down for mortgage."

"That's...fair," I sit down, "I guess he'd have to explain to the IRS where's he getting all those dollar bills."

"Yeah," He puts his arm around me, "But, still, it's good that Pilar's finally sticking to her guns and leaving that asshole."

I glance over at him. "How well did you know them?"

"I only met him once and I saw Pilar a few times. She's a nice lady, but she always use to tell Lourdes to get out from under me. In Español, but Lourdes told me afterwards."

"She didn't want Lourdes hanging around a married man, huh?"

Negan snickers. "Guess Lourdes doesn't have a discerning eye when it comes to picking men."

I chuckle as I straddle him. "I guess that's why we get along."

He shifts in his seat. "You really want to do this here? 'Cause I'm down, but I don't want you to flip the fuck out, if the kid walks in on you on my lap."

I graze my hand through his hair. "We can go to the bedroom, if you want."

"It's your call." He says, sliding his hand up my shirt.

I weigh the pros and cons for a minute. "Maybe we better go back to the bedroom to play it safe. I don't want him to see us together. Plus, the boy can't be trusted."

Negan laughs with me. "Sounds like a plan."

"Alright." I gaze at him with a smile.

He raises his brows, expectantly, after we haven't moved. "Well? What the fuck are we waiting for?"

"Nothing."

"Then aren't we getting up?"

I shrug, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. "I don't know. Why haven't we?"

Negan looks me over, his smile tipping up. He starts to stand, taking the back of my legs as he does. When he manages to get up, I'm still straddling him, hanging on by my arms around him, as well as my thighs. Negan steps around the table, walking a little slower than usual as he begins to take me to my bedroom. I can't help but smile and chuckle a little when he has to maneuver through my house to get to the destination. He laughs, too, so I kiss him to keep him quiet.

We finally make it; he takes me over to the bed and grins wide, before tossing me down. I let out a shriek and cover my mouth with my hand as he climbs on top of me. The smile lines in his eyes are bright and his gaze is steadfast. I gingerly traipse down his sides, until I reach his belt and start to undo it. Negan inclines my way to plant his mouth on mine.

"Mommy?" Jolyon calls from out in the hall. Negan and I both hold our breaths. "Mommy?"

We both exhale and Negan backs off. "I'm in here, baby." Jolyon enters my bedroom a few seconds later with glossy eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I threw up in my bed." He hoarsely whines.

"Oh," I walk over to him, "It's probably all those Oreos you had at lunch, huh?"

"Yeah." He sniffs.

"Don't cry," I clear his tears with my thumb, "It's okay. We'll just wash your bedding."

"Okay."

"Okay, let's go."

"Is Negan sleeping over?"

I pause, almost forgetting that he's still here. "Um, I don't know."

"Do you wanna sleep over?" Jolyon asks Negan with a dry throat.

Negan's eyes fall. "Hell, kid, I gotta go home sometime."

"Tomorrow!"

"Jolyon," I take his hand, "Negan wants to go home."

"But we're having fun!" He complains as we walk out into the hall.

"Well, you'll see him after school on Monday."

"Yeah..."

Jolyon stands by his bed as I clean the mess off and then strip it to take to the washer. I see Negan exit my room after I hear the toilet flushing. He seems a little awkward, which is never like him in the least bit. Mr. Cool looks out of place, like he's not sure what to do.

"You want a little bit of ginger ale for your tummy?" I ask Jolyon.

"Yes, please."

"Okay," I glance over my shoulder at Negan, "You alright there, sport?"

"I'm fine, you smart ass." He snidely says with his phone up to his ear.

I smirk. "Alright." I walk Jolyon to the kitchen for some ginger ale, something I always keep stock off around here. "You want your silly straw?"

"Yeah!"

I pull open a drawer and get out his blue loopy straw. "Here you go."

Jolyon puts his mouth on the straw, trying to watch the liquid go all the way from the bottom of the glass to his mouth. "Can we order pizza tonight?"

"If you're feeling a little better by dinner, then yes." I look over at the archway, where Negan stands. "She pick up?"

"What?"

"You were on your phone. I assume you were trying to get a hold of Lucille."

Negan puts his phone in his pocket, sighing. "She said she'd be busy all day."

"Well, try a little later."

"Nah, she said I didn't need to call her."

I nod my head. "So, you gonna go home?"

"You should have pizza with us!" Jolyon perks up on his chair. "We can play hide and seek while we wait and then, we can watch movies."

Negan and I both chuckle at Jolyon's suggestion. "Baby, we can't keep Negan here, if he wants to go."

"Aw!" Jolyon holds his cheeks in his hands.

"Stop whining," I tell him, "Negan-"

"Well, now, hold on a damn minute," Negan interjects, strolling into the kitchen, "I don't have go so soon. I did all the shit Lucille wanted me to do earlier."

I look at him, a little shocked. "Oh, you mean you finished all your chores?"

"I could stick around for a little while longer, asshole." He adds, humored, "Hide and seek and movies sound like a blast."

 **...**

"Ready, or not; here I come"! Jolyon yells all the way from the living room, before his footsteps can be heard running around the house in search of Negan and I.

I try not to moan as both Negan and the rumbling dryer send good aches through me. I don't know if it's wise to be hiding together in the same place, but here we are, sucking face. I put my hand on Negan's chest for a minute, pausing him.

"I think he's close."

"I'm close," Negan whispers with a dirty grin, "Close to bustin' through my fucking zipper."

"Shh," I cover his mouth, listening...my insides flinch at the shimming of the dryer but I hold myself together. "I think we're okay."

Negan goes back to kissing me. "You think it'll be awhile before he finds us? Because I'd like to fu-"

"Shut up, or he will find us!" I chuckle under my breath. "Just be quiet."

But we don't get the chance to go any further, because Jolyon turns the door handle, separating us. He opens the door and finds us. "Hey!"

"You found us." I leap off the dryer. "Good job."

"You can't hide in the same place!" Jolyon shouts, angry.

"Says who?" Negan smiles.

"That's the rules!"

He laughs. "Bullshit!"

"Negan!" I swat his arm. "We're sorry, Jol. We'll play by the rules from now on. I'll count."

Jolyon looks between us and then nods, before running out to go hide. "You won't find me!"

I smile, blinking back to Negan. "Go hide."

"How about I hide something instead?"

I bite my lip. "Or, you could hide in the closet in the hall and I could find you first."

"Start counting." Negan snickers, stalking out of the room.

I smile, smoothing down my shirt as I begin to count to twenty. The little decorative mirror on the wall by the door gets my attention, halting my count for a moment. I have a perspiring glow to my face. I tuck some hair behind my ears, fairly happy with the stranger in the mirror. My phone starts to ring, so I grab it from my back pocket to see who's calling me. I hit the ignore button and leave my phone on the washer, before exiting the laundry room.

"Ready, or not; here I come!"

Immediately, I know Jolyon's in the bathroom, because the light is on and there's no way he'd go in if it was dark. I sneak over to the closet and open it. Negan nearly pulls me in and shuts the door inward. I go to tug the overhead string to turn on the lights, but he stops me.

"You'll give us away."

"Please, Jol's hiding behind the shower curtain in the bathroom." I fiddle with his shirt.

"Alright, then. You forced me to confess that I want the lights off because you are fuckin' hard on the eyes."

I let out a raspy giggle. "You're no crown jewel yourself, ass face."

"How long 'til he gets bored and comes looking for us?"

I cackle. "We're not getting that far, tiger, so don't get your hopes up."

"I'm more concerned about my dick," Negan pushes me back against the wall, "It's the only thing I've got up at the moment that's a little fuckin' more difficult to get rid of."

I slide my hand down this body. "Well, I might be able to do something about that." I undo his belt, causing him to groan. We don't get very far, though, because the doorbell rings.

Negan growls. "It's the fucking pizza."

"Pizza's here!" Jolyon calls out not two seconds later.

I chuckle, opening the door. "So close."

"I'll get it." Negan huffs, not as amused as I am, as he puts his dick back in his drawers.

"Worry about icing your blue balls." I walk out of the closet. The bell rings again. "Coming!"

"Did you find Negan?" Jolyon asks, trotting behind me.

"I...did." I open the door to pizza guy. "Hey."

"Good evening." He politely replies.

Negan comes around the corner, fishing out his wallet. "How much?"

The pizza guy's brows knit. "...Uh, Coach?"

Negan looks up and by then I realize that I've seen this kid before. Here and at school. It's that kid that goes to Southcastle High School. He looks so confused as his eyes move from Negan to me. Everyone knows Negan's married, even the students.

"Daniels?" Negan finally replies. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I deliver pizzas for my dad's place off Orange and Main," The kid answers, still puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

"That's hardly any of your fuckin' business."

"Don't be an ass," I elbow him, "Coach Negan and his wife are having dinner at my house." I very casually motion towards the kitchen as if to imply that she's in there.

"Oh," He nods, "Okay."

Negan hands the kid forty bucks. "Here, keep the change."

"Thanks," He hands Negan the pizza, "See you Monday, Coach. Ms. Barnes."

"Yeah." Negan close the door. "Fuck!"

"Jolyon, go wash your hands for dinner." I mildly instruct, pointing towards the bathroom.

"When is she gonna get here?" He inquires.

"Who?"

"Negan's wife?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Um, soon maybe."

"Okay." He runs off to the bathroom.

I turn back to Negan, who's gone into the kitchen. He sets the pizza and the smaller breadsticks box on top onto the table and by the way he does, I can tell he's agitated. "Um, I think he might have believed it."

Negan exhales, blinking up at me from across the room. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me Andrew fucking Daniels worked for the pizza place?"

"I...I forgot," I fold my arms, "I guess I don't order pizza on the nights he works. But, it's okay; he believed me."

"Or he just nodded his head now and is gonna start telling people at school he saw us together on Monday." Negan scoffs.

"He didn't see us together," I tread into the kitchen to get some plates out, "He saw two teachers hanging out on the weekend. That's not that weird, especially when your wife's in the kitchen."

Negan tries not to chuckle, but he does. "That's not fucking funny."

I smile, "Look, even if he didn't believe me, what's he gonna do? Tell Avery?"

"That's not the fucking point."

"Then what is?" I shrug, flipping open the pizza box, "What kind of pizza, Jol?"

"The olive kind." Jolyon points.

I grab him a slice and put it on a plate, handing it to him. "Okay, now carefully take it to the living room, okay?"

"Okay."

I wait for Jolyon to leave the room. "I've got news for you, pal; there are kids at that school that know you fuck around. Do you know how many girls I've had to shoo away from the corner of your office when you were still screwing Lara and Claire?"

"Yeah, but..." He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily.

"But?" I put my hands on my hips.

Negan shakes his head. "You know what? Never mind. You're probably right," He comes over to the table and takes a slice of pizza, "I'm getting my balls in a twist for nothin'."

I study his sudden rise in mood. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, what am I worried for?" He smirks as he chews. "It was just Daniels. He'll probably keep his mouth shut in fear I won't play him this year."

I know there's something he was gonna tell me, but I'm not gonna argue. I shrug my shoulders. "Whatever."

"Mom!"

"I'm coming!"

Negan steps forward a little and whispers in my ear. "That's not the last time you'll be sayin' that tonight."

I elbow him. "Shut up."

 **...**

Jolyon falls asleep in the middle of the second movie, which I think was Negan's design, since he put on an old black and white movie that a kid could never be interested in. I gently slide out from under him, so I won't wake him up. After placing the throw from the back of the couch on him, I pad away from the scene. Negan smiles as we go to my bedroom to finally be alone. As soon as we get there, I turn and our mouths meet as we slowly make it to the bed. I collapse onto the bed with him on top of me. I snake my arms around the back of his neck, smiling as he looks at me.

"It's about damn time."

"Shh," I kiss him, "Three strikes and you're out, dude."

He chuckles. "I thought we'd have hit a homerun at least twice by now."

"Well, that's what happens when you have kids," I smile, humored, "Sex is never a given."

Negan's grin lessens a little and his trail down my body. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I run my hand up his arm, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," He kisses me, "Your skin is so fucking warm."

"Not bad for a cold blooded, reptile woman, huh?"

Negan laughs under his breath. "Smart ass."

We kiss passionately, exchanging body heat. Similarly to this morning, Negan doesn't man handle me in bed, but he's doing a good job at keeping me interested. That's the occasional problem with rougher sex; sometimes it's incredible, sometimes it's just this guy thrusting on top of me like a wild animal, while I just wait for him to be done, so I can DIY it. It's not like that now. It's fun and we can't stop chuckling, even though neither of us know what's so amusing.

"You've got amazing titties," Negan reaches under my shirt.

"Mm," I close my eyes at the feel, "I guess I lucked out."

Negan snickers, "You certainly fucking did." He looks me over, biting his lip. "Do you remember that little conversation we had a while ago?"

I think for a moment. "Um...No, what conversation?"

"The conversation where you said you'd think about letting me-"

"Oh, that conversation!" I cackle, traipsing two of my fingers down his skin.

"Yeah," He kisses me, "That conversation. What do you say?"

My grin widens. "If I said yes, what do I get out of it in return?"

"I'll get you where you wanna go before."

"Sounds nice and all, but..." I run my foot up the side of his leg, "I think I'm gonna need some type of bonus."

Negan's smile devils. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well...what if you started off with a little in and out, but when you're close...well, I want you to do what I'd do just before you come."

His eyes scan my face. "You want me to go down on you after?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, unless you aren't up for it."

"Is that a challenge?'

I smile, "I think it's a lack of faith that you can."

"Oh-ho-ho, "He chuckles, "I think you've gotta fuckin' mouth on you, which is good because you're gonna have to eat those fuckin' words."

"I'll believe that when you eat me." I tease.

Negan throatily laughs, "God, I-"

"Mommy?"

We both look at each other and it's like déjá vu. We remain perfectly still as we wait to see if we heard correctly. We did.

"Mommy?"

We both sigh. Again. "In here, baby!" Jolyon' footsteps herald his arrival. "Well, three strikes. Back to the dugout."

Negan clears his throat, looking down. "I, uh, I can but it's not gonna be pretty."

I smile into a laugh. "Well, go to the bathroom."

"Put him to bed and we'll start up again." Negan suggests, as he gets off the bed.

"We'll see." I walk over to the door to meet Jolyon. "Hey, baby."

"I'm not a baby, Mom," He reminds me with a groggy voice.

"Sorry," I listen to the bathroom door close, "You need some water?"

"I didn't brush my teeth."

"Oh, well, let's go do that and then get in our pj's."

"Can I sleep in your room?" He asks.

"Uh...well, honey, Negan is sleeping over and he's gonna sleep in my room."

"So?"

"So..." I flick the light on in the bathroom by his room, "So, it might be a little cramped in my bed."

"Not if you share your side with me." He holds his toothbrush out for toothpaste.

"I don't know, Jolyon."

"Please!" He begs while brushing his teeth. "I wanna sleep in your room."

"O-Okay," I sigh, "Spit and rinse." Jolyon finishes up his routine. "Can you dress yourself for bed?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, go ahead I'll meet you in my room." I pad down the hall. When I go in, I knock on the bathroom door. "Hey."

"Is the kid in bed?" His voice echoes off the tiles.

"Not exactly."

The door abruptly opens. "What do you mean not exactly?"

I scratch my brow. "Well...Jolyon's sleeping in my room."

Negan stares. "What?"

"He asked me and I told him he could."

"Why'd you go and do a fuckin' thing like that for?"

I shrug, "Because I think it's pretty clear we're not having sex tonight. The universe is preventing every attempt."

Negan huffs, "Or your kid is annoyingly good at cock blocking."

"Hey!" I swat him on the arm.

"Well," He laughs, "It's true."

"I got my pj's on." Jolyon enters with his favorite blanket and a book under his arm.

"Okay," I say, before sighing over at Negan, "I wouldn't blame you, if you went home."

Negan looks at his watch. "It's almost eleven o'clock."

"Yeah, it's pretty late," I yawn, "What time will Lucille be home tomorrow?"

"She said anywhere from one to two."

I nod, "You want me to walk you to the door?"

Negan scratches the back of his head. "Actually, if you wouldn't mind, I'm just gonna crash on your couch 'til morning."

"Oh, okay." I smile a little.

"Mommy, I have this book I want you to read me." Jolyon holds up _Goodnight_ _Moon_.

"Alright," I peer over at Negan, "Night."

"Night, beautiful."

I pad over to the bed and climb in. Jolyon snuggles down next to me, resting his head on me as I situate the blankets over us. My eyes flicker up to briefly watch Negan go out of the room, softly closing the door a little. I open the book up, laying my cheek onto Jolyon's head.

"In the green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon..."

In the morning, Negan came into to tell me he was leaving. I was still asleep, cuddled next my son, but I nodded and said "okay." His hand touched my head, before I felt him kiss my temple. The front opened and closed about two minutes later.

 **...**

"Can I get this, Mom?" Jolyon shows me something on the kids' menu.

"Uh, sure, I don't see why not."

"Cool!"

"Cool." I repeat, stirring some milk and sugar into my coffee.

"Are we ready to order?" The waitress comes over.

"Yeah, I'll get the biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns and he'll have the blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs."

"And toast!"

I smile, "Yeah, can we get four pieces of toast?"

"Sure, Pip," The waitress smiles, "Comin' up."

I woke up this morning in the mood for a hearty breakfast, so I drug Jolyon out of bed and drove down here. Luckily, no one from the night shift is here to recall how I just up fled the restaurant the other night. Jolyon broke all his crayons coloring on his placemat. I check my phone for messages.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"How come Negan didn't come with us?"

I put my phone away. "Um, because he had to go home."

"I wish he could've stayed one more day."

I chuckle, "Me, too, but we'll see him tomorrow."

"Yeah."

I sit up straight, peering out the window as we wait for our food. It's beautiful out today. The skies are blue and clear, the sun's shining, and everything looks so vibrant and colorful. I won't lie, I'm a little uncomfortable because I haven't had a drink since Friday, but I don't have the desire to drink right now. I just pop an aspirin from my purse and breathe through it. For once in a very long time, I feel optimistic.

A truck pulls into the parking lot and my smile dips. Why does universe hate me? It's his truck. I can see his silhouette in the driver's side and Sherry's in the passenger's. I watch them park, open their car doors, get out, and walk towards the restaurant. I contemplate getting up and leaving, but Jolyon's hungry and it's harder to run with a four year old. God, is this the only goddamn diner in this fucking town? I lower my head, turning it towards the window to try and be conspicuous when they come in.

"Pippa?"

Fuuuck! I look over at Sherry with a smile. "Hi, Sherry."

"Hey," She smiles back, walking our way, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I clear my throat, "How about yourself?"

"We're good," She glances to Dwight, "Right?"

He raises his brows and nods. "Uh, yeah, yeah, we're...we're good."

I avert my gaze from him. "Um, would you like to join us?"

"Oh, yeah, that'd be nice!" She smiles.

"Hi!" Jolyon greets them.

"Hi, sweetheart."

I slide out of the booth, trying not to look directly at Dwight. I scooch Jolyon over and sit down. The waitress comes by, taking their orders and pouring coffee for the three of us. I keep a smile on, but I'm really not excited to be having breakfast with them. Why the holy fuck did I invite them to sit with us? Dwight's sitting directly across from me and I accidentally bumped his leg with my foot.

"So, what have you been up to?" Sherry asks me.

"Uh," I shrug, "Nothing much, just, um, work and home."

"We went to the park yesterday!" Jolyon informs them. "Negan bought me my own baseball and mitt and we played catch, and then he pushed me really high on the swings!"

"Oh, sounds like you had fun!" Sherry gushes.

"Yeah and then we played hide and seek at our house, and then we had pizza and watched movies, and then he spent the night. He had to go home today though."

At Jolyon's innocent recount of the weekend, Dwight's eyes flicker to him when he mentions Negan sleeping over and then at me.

She laughs adoringly. "You sound like you had the best weekend I've ever heard of."

"It was pretty great."

I smile at him. "Yeah."

"So, is Negan a work friend, or...should I mind my own business?"

My eyes briefly look at Dwight, before I answer. "He's-"

"He's Mom's very good friend, like-"

"Um, Jolyon that question for me," I cut him off, "Can I answer it, please?"

"Sorry." He goes back to coloring.

I smile at Sherry, though I feel sweat beading up. "Yes, he's a guy I met at work."

"Oh, so you and him are seeing each other?"

"Uh, yeah," I nod my head, "Sort of."

"That's good," She puts her hand on Dwight's shoulder, "Honey, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Oh, okay." He moves out of the booth for her.

"I'll be back in a minute."

I watch her go. "So, I saw your mother last Thursday."

"I saw you Friday night." Dwight retorts.

"She told me you and Sherry invited her over to tell her something." I ignore him.

"Why did you leave like that?"

"Why are you and her here for the second time in two days?" I calmly inquire back, looking up and meeting his eyes.

Dwight exhales through his nose. "She wanted to come."

"Hm," I nod, looking over at Jolyon, "Move your milk a little, so you don't spill it, baby."

"I'm not a baby!" He growls.

"Hey," I lean towards him, "Don't make me have to tell Negan how you spoke to me." I tickle him.

"I'm sorry!" He laughs.

My smile dwindles when I see Dwight's face. I clear my throat again and drink from my mug. My hand shakes the cup a little as I set it down. Dwight's eyes observe that.

"What's wrong with your hands?"

"What do you mean?" I set them in my lap.

"I mean, why are they shaking like that?"

I look down at the table, nonchalant. "It's nothing."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes and I said it's nothing." I catch a glimpse of Sherry leaving the bathroom. Dwight gets out so she can climb back in. "So, I ran into Caroline the other night."

"Oh, yeah?" Sherry replies and I try not to notice Dwight's searing stare. "Where at?"

"I went to the art class with my mom and we saw her there."

"Oh, that's right," Sherry nods, "She told me at work the next day."

The waitress comes over to the table to deliver our food. I quietly cut up pancakes for Jolyon, contemplating asking her about what Dwight clearing was avoiding. It's really none of my business, but I really want to know. For closure; I want to know that it's really over between Dwight and I. That he's starting a new chapter in his life that doesn't include me.

"So, I think I saw you here the other night."

"Oh?" Sherry cuts her omelet. "When?"

"Friday night."

"Oh, yeah, we were here," She says, "Why didn't you come say hello?"

"I would've, but my stomach starting hurting, so I decided to just go home," I tell her, "Plus, my date wanted to go home." Dwight's barely touched his food as he listens. "But, hey, you're here now."

She laughs. "Yeah, I've been craving their omelets lately."

I look her over and I feel a weight in my chest. There it is. "Oh," I get up, "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom. Jolyon behave while I'm gone."

"Okay, Mom."

I stalk back to the bathroom. I'm not going to cry, I just need a minute to breathe...and convince myself not to buy gin at the store across the street. The jukebox's playing some fun, stupid song that wish would just fucking end.

"Hey," Dwight takes my arm to hold me back in the little hall, "Wait a minute."

"What?" I pull my arm free. "What the hell do you want?"

"Why are you acting like this?" He replies.

"Why the hell do you think?"

"Do you want her to fucking know?"

"No," I scoff, "I wouldn't do that."

"Then why are asking us about my mom?" Dwight interrogates.

"I was making small talk."

"You were fishing," He claims, "So, what? What is it that you think you have the right to know about?"

"I don't want to know anything," I hiss at him, "I don't care about you and Sherry. In fact, I don't want anything to do with you! I'm moving on."

"With that guy?"

"With my son," I clarify, "I'm moving on to be a better mother and to be a better person, but who I'm seeing from time to time is none of your business."

"So, he's using you," He scoffs, " From time to time. Real nice."

"Are you really gonna throw stones?" I arch my brow. "And for your information; he's actually a good guy who cares about me and Jolyon." I move past him. "I'm gonna go back to the table. Congratulations."

"Congratulations?" He knits his brows. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sherry," I glance his way, "She's pregnant."

"What? He huffs, looking at me like I'm absurd. "She's not pregnant."

My eyes flicker over to the table, where I can see Sherry talking to Jolyon. "She said she was _craving_ omelets."

Dwight sighs, frustrated. "That's just a word, Pippa. She didn't mean anything by it."

"So...then what did she invite your mother over for?"

"To tell her..." He looks down in thought. "That's none of your business."

I try to read his face. "Just to tell her that you were gonna try?"

"No," He runs his hand down his face, "I thought didn't want to know anything? That you didn't want anything to do with me? Why are you interested then, huh?"

I scowl. "I'm not."

"Doesn't seem that way to me."

"Well, watch and you'll see." I walk away back to the table.

 **...**

Monday comes and I couldn't be gladder. After breakfast with the Rollins', Jolyon and I ran some errands to keep myself busy and my mind off drinking. I baked about four dozen cookies as a way to distract myself at home. Now, I'm just happy to be back at work. As I get out of my car, I can see Negan climbing out of his. I smile and walk over to him. Well, at least that was the plan. I see Lourdes sitting in her car on my way over to Negan and something seems a little off. She doesn't typically sit in her car, unless someone else is sitting with her, and she appears to be putting makeup on.

I decide to go over to her instead. I knock on her window. "Morning!"

She startles a little, but when she sees it's me, she offers a little smile. "Morning." She says through the window. She gathers her things and gets out of the car.

I reach into my purse and produce a ziplock bag with about twelve cookies inside. "I made a shit ton of cookies this weekend and I brought you…" As soon as we're face to face, my smile lowers. There's bruising on the right side of her face.

Lourdes takes the cookies, embarrassed. "Thanks."

"Oh my god," I survey the bruises, before meeting her eyes, "Lourdes, what happened to you?"

"It's...it's nothing, I'm fine." She clears her throat.

"You've got bruises on your face."

"Yeah, apparently those ladies at the drugstore didn't know what they are talking about when they said this concealer would cover it up."

"It's not funny."

She looks away for a minute. "I know, I just..."

"What happened?" I lightly touch her arm.

"Good morning, ladies" Negan wanders over with his usual grin, "How are we on this fine morning?"

I give a solemn look to convey that now's not the time for jokes. I can feel Lourdes tense up in my hand at his voice. Negan strolls between the cars and he does a double take of Lourdes when he sees the bruising. His smile immediately drops.

"What the fuck the happened to your face?" He asks her, angry.

"Nothing, go away."

"No," He stops her from walking past him, "What happened?"

She licks her lips, holding her arms. "Um..."

"Did that fucking asshole hit you?" Negan demands to know.

"Simon?" She scoffs, shaking her head. "No, no, he didn't."

"So, who then? And don't fucking lie to me."

"Negan." My tone warns him to lay off.

"No, I want to know!"

"We're in the parking lot," I remind him in a low voice, "And-"

"It was my dad." She confesses, tears welling up in her eyes. We both look back to her.

"What?"

"Yeah, he, um," She takes a deep breath, "He wasn't supposed to be home when I went over to help my mom get her things. But he showed up and we argued... and then he just backhanded me. I mean it got heated and we were in each other's faces, but I...I didn't see it coming. He hit me so hard my ears were ringing." She starts to cry. "My mom said I provoked him."

"Oh, Lour," I bring her into my arms, "And she stayed?"

"No, she moved in with me, but she still made an excuse for him." She wails against me.

My eyes meet Negan as I rub Lourdes' back. "Why don't you go home? We can get someone to stand in for you."

"I can't," She wipes her eyes, which just smears the concealer off her bruises, "School starts in ten, and I didn't call ahead of time."

"I'll tell Diane that you need to go home and...I'm sure she'll stand in, until a substitute can make it over."

"No, I don't want to go home!" Lourdes sniffs. "My mom and Simon have been at each other's throats all weekend."

"It's your fucking house," Negan chimes in, "Tell 'em to shut the fuck up."

"It's not that easy, Negan," She scoffs, "Simon came home Saturday evening and when he saw my face, he drove to my dad's house and beat the hell out of him. My mom was all upset and said I shouldn't live with a man like that, or I'll wind up like her." She dries her eyes and sighs. "It's fine, alright? I'll just stay at work." She walks off away from us to head towards the building.

I shake my head, worried for her, as I uncap my water. "Jesus."

Negan eyes the canteen and put his hand out. "Can I have some?"

I go to hand it to him. "Wait a minute, "I draw it back, "You're just checking to see if I have alcohol in here."

"Oh, you clever devil," He chuckles, "Still, hand it over."

I roll my eyes, handing to him. "Here."

He brings it up to his nose. "Good."

I take back my canteen. "Glad I passed inspection," My eyes follow Lourdes, "Think she'll be okay?"

Negan looks off. "Yeah, she'll pick herself up. Can't same for her dad, though."

"You're not thinking about going over there, are you?" I furrow my brows.

"I knew that asshole was a spineless son of a bitch, I didn't know he'd fuckin' hit his own daughter for fuck's sake."

"Negan, Simon already took care of it and besides, you wanna get the cops called on you?" I scoff, "Look, I want to smash out his windows and slash his tires, but I'm thinking rationally here. It's not a good idea."

"Actually, smashing out his windows does sound-"

"And if Lucille finds out?" I raise my brow.

Negan thinks for a minute and exhales. "Yeah, that'd be signing my death warrant."

I tuck some hair behind my ear. "Well, at least we know that she's looked after, right?"

He looks at me and it makes me a little uneasy. Almost like he's unsure. "Yeah, I guess so."

The bell rings and we both groan under our breaths. "We should go."

"Yep," He starts to walk, "You gonna check on her at lunch?"

I shrug, "Yeah, I figured I would," I smile over at him, "Do you still love her?"

Negan rolls his eyes in response. I smile, until I start to fall back a little, remembering that kid who saw us this weekend and not wanting to look like Negan's sweetheart to anyone.

"Why are you draggin' your ass?" He calls over his shoulder.

"I like the way you walk, sweetness."

Negan chuckles. "Smart ass."

I smile into a little laugh, before picking up the pace to catch up with him.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's chapter!**

 **Wittoria: *Shrugs* Maybe. :) I think Negan at least recognizes that he likes/cares for Pippa beyond just sneaking around with her. I don't know if I'd go as far as to say he's in love with her...just yet.**

 **CLTex: Haha, glad you liked Eugene and Pippa awkward little tryst. I know, Negan being tender and honest is weird, but I like to think that Pre-ZA Negan is a little less guarded.**

 **StTudnoBright: I'm happy you liked Negan and Lucille's backstory :) I wanted it to seem organic and not outrageously fantastic, though that is Negan.**

 **Wow, what an episode, Episode 9 was! Heartbreaking, but also beautiful. Carl (Live or dead) really is a great character.**


	34. Chapter 34

_The hotel banquet room was decorated really nice for tonight. The prom committee outdid themselves this year. Prom was so much fun, better than I expected. Dances always make me feel so embarrassed and awkward. I always blow them off as cheesy wastes of time, but that's only because it makes me nervous to be so close to Dwight like I am when we dance. I paced a trench in the hallway back at my house earlier in the night at the mere anticipation of when he'll see in me in my prom dress._

 _But I'm glad we went. Dwight just has a way about him that makes everything I thought would be weird, easy. Even when we danced in the center of the dance floor, I didn't feel my cheeks burn up. I just leaned my head of his shoulder as we swayed here and there. I could've danced all night, slow songs and fast, if it weren't for my damn shoes. I ended the night with blisters on my toes and heels._

 _Our plan worked. I told my parents that I was sharing a room with some softball friends and he told his mom that he was staying with other players from the baseball team. Instead, we got a room of our own. It's not technically allowed and if the chaperones catch us, we're in hot water. The room's adjoining to the one that two of my friends are in, so if any parents or teachers come knocking, I can sneak over to the other room._

 _We walked to the McDonald's down the street after the dance with some friends. The seven or so of us try to keep voices down as we go down the halls of the third floor, but we can't help but laugh at everything and nothing. Dwight's friend from the team may have gotten his hands on some of his dad's gin and offered some of us a splash in our punch cups._

 _All of us go our own separate ways when we get to the middle of the hall. Dwight and I enter room 334A, making sure the coast is clear of adults. I sip from my medium Dr. Pepper as he closes the door behind us. The room is small, but smells nice. Like fresh, clean linens, which is refreshing from the stench of chlorine that carries in from the pool and fills the first three floors._

 _Dwight flicks on the lights and the room is clothed in an amber glow. I set down my cup on the right nightstand and have a seat on the end. I can faintly hear the girls in the other room laughing and talking._

 _"My feet are killing me!"_

 _"You should've worn shoes you already had."_

 _"I had to have new shoes," I stare down at my bloody, dirty feet, "its prom."_

 _Dwight chuckles under his breath. "Maybe there's a first aid kit in the bathroom."_

 _"I don't think so." I get up and walk with him towards the bathroom. The fan hums as he turns on the lights. "I'm just gonna soak my feet in the tub for a few minutes."_

 _He cringes down at my feet. "You shouldn't have walked barefoot to McDonald's."_

 _I snicker, "Well, I couldn't very well put my shoes back on."_

 _I let my feet bathe in warm water for about ten minutes, washing them clean with the green smelling soap that was set on the counter with all the little toiletries. After I dry them off, I take a look at myself in the mirror. Audrey did my makeup for the night and I'm honestly sick of it. It looks great, I look great, but I'm not use to wearing this much. I run a washcloth under the sink water to wash it off._

 _I shut the lights off and exit the bathroom, finding Dwight sitting on the edge of the bed with his tie undone and his jacket off, watching the baseball game on the television. I smile, before padding over and sitting down beside him._

 _"Who's winning?"_

 _"The Royals." He says, disappointed._

 _I nod my head. "I had fun tonight."_

 _"Yeah, me, too."_

 _I fiddle with my dress. "You're not a bad dancer, Rollins."_

 _He scoffs, smiling over at me. "You're not so bad yourself, Barnes."_

 _I softly smile back, leaning over to kiss him. He kisses me back, which leads to the two of us exchanging pecks back and forth. We part our lips and look at one another, each trying to figure out what the other's thinking._

 _"I'm pretty tired." I murmur after a while._

 _"Me, too."_

 _He turns off the T.V. I stand and go over to the right side of the bed, while Dwight goes to the left. We look at each other, anxiously and curiously undressing from the formal clothes we'll never wear again. As I pull the gown past my hips, I feel D has me at a disadvantage. He's technically seen more of me than I have of him. He's seen my breasts, with and without my bra. I've seen him shirtless, but that's not really saying much. Just whenever we've been at the river._

 _We're both down to our underwear at the same time. I'm the first one to count to three in my head and remove my bra. By time I get to my panties, he puts his hand on the waist of his boxers. We nervously lower them at the same time, both our eyes wanting to keep on each other, but also wanting to see. Naked, we stand on the opposite sides of the bed, vulnerable and silently explorative._

 _I've never actually seen one before, except for the drawings in health class and boy dogs at the park. I don't really know what to make of it; there's no initial point for comparison. I assume he is thinking the same thing about me. I lift back the covers of the hotel bed and shyly slide under them. He does the same._

 _We lay there for a few minutes, staring at each other. I can feel his body heat. I smile after a while to try to diffuse the awkwardness._

 _"I really had a good time." I say._

 _Dwight smiles lightly, before carefully leaning over to put his lips on mine._

 _I return the gesture, though I'm just as bashful. "Um..." I bite my lip, "Do you wanna...make out a little? To...you know, start?"_

 _He looks me over. "Uh...yeah, sure."_

 _"Okay." I whisper._

 _Timidly, we both slowly move closer to one another until our skins touch. It's a little intimidating, considering we're both naked. Dwight sits up on his elbow, slightly elevated above me and plants his mouth on mine. If he were clothed, I might grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt, but since he's not, I put my hand on his arm._

 _We make out for god knows how long, but it's nice and it'd be just as happy to keep it at that, if we can't make it far. My other hand aimlessly travels along his flesh. He cups his hand on the side of my face, deepening the kiss. That sickly sweet pang coils up inside me and I can't help but moan into his mouth._

 _It's the same sensation I've been feeling on and off this whole year. When he kisses me, when he looks at me, when he smiles, when he laughs. That whole two weeks we spent separated after school as punishment. Sometimes at night when I'm trying to go to sleep._

 _My leg skittishly moves at the feel of his hardness brush against me._

 _"Sorry."_

 _"It-It's okay," I assure him, cheeks flushing up, "Um, are you...?"_

 _"Uh," He glances down beneath the covers, "Yeah."_

 _I faintly nod. "Okay," I swallow the lump in my throat, "Did you bring 'em?"_

 _Dwight peers over his shoulder. "Yeah."_

 _I nod my head again. "Okay."_

 _He looks at me. "Do you want me to get one out?"_

 _"Um...yeah, but only if you want to," I tell him, "If you're not ready yet, then we can wait."_

 _"No, I'm..."D sighs, embarrassed, "I'm ready...are you?"_

 _"Yeah, I'm...ready, too."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _I gaze back up at him. "...Yeah, I'm sure."_

 _He nods, before turning over to the other side to reach for his pants on the floor. I feel like such a child, but I saw it graze the covers when he moved and it made me instantly petrified. God, this is nothing like health class. All those pictures in the textbook are so emotionless and there's too many labels for anyone to actually know what's going on._

 _I stare up at the ceiling while Dwight fishes out a condom. What should I do? I know the mechanics, but I don't how I'm supposed to react. He looks at the wrapper in his hand, curiously knitting his brows._

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _"Uh...how do I know if this is the right kind?" He gives me an uneasy look._

 _My face flares up. "Oh, uh, well, what does it say?"_

 _"It says...'average'."_

 _"It's probably okay, then. Right?"_

 _"I guess." He tears open the condom and I want to die when I see that it's green. Dwight loses eye contact when he reaches under the blanket to roll it on. He stops moving his hand and curses. "Shit."_

 _"What?"_

 _"It's..." He exhales, "It's on, but it's suppose to go all the way down."_

 _My eyes travel down, though I can't see anything. "How far did you get it?"_

 _"Pretty far, but it's suppose to go all the way on, right?"_

 _"Um..." I bite my lip in thought, "I think so. It's mostly on, though, right?"_

 _Dwight glances down, utterly embarrassed. "I think so, but I'm not sure." He hesitantly lifts the covers a bit. "Do you...do you want to check?"_

 _Uh...I clear my throat. "O-okay. Sure." He lifts back the blanket some more. I peek over and inspect the area. "Um, it looks okay to me."_

 _"There's still...you know."_

 _"Well, it's pretty far like you said," I murmur, "I mean, so long as it's mostly covered, it should be fine, right?"_

 _Dwight sighs. "I don't know, Pip."_

 _I bite my lip. "We don't have to, if you don't want to."_

 _He looks back at me. "No, I...I want to, I'm just...being stupid, I guess."_

 _"Dwight, we-"_

 _"It'll be okay," He assures me, "It's pretty much on and if I feel it sliding, we'll just stop."_

 _"Yeah..."_

 _"Yeah." He repeats, staring off ahead, then back to me._

 _I smile at me and he moves closer, before lying on his side to kiss me. We kiss for a few more moments, until we meet eyes and I give him a nod. Dwight carefully shifts his body over mine and I part my legs so that he can get between them._

 _Once there, he looks down below the covers, then at me._

 _"How do I know if I'm...close to your...?"_

 _My eyes flicker down. "What did Ms. Burke say in Health?"_

 _"She didn't," He says, "She just told us where I'm supposed to put it."_

 _"Well, it's...right there."_

 _"Where?"_

 _I take his hand and move it down to show him._

 _His finger finds my entrance and he immediately pulls his hand back. "Oh."_

 _I twist my mouth to the side. "Think you can...get your penis to insert into my-"_

 _Dwight lets out a laugh. "Don't use textbook terms."_

 _I chuckle below my nervous breath. "Sorry," I look earnestly up at him, "So, you think you can?"_

 _His smile diminishes, but he nods. "Yeah, I think so."_

 _I nod back at him. "Okay."_

 _Dwight's eyes move down and hesitate for a moment, before he sticks his hand down and positions himself. I feel him close to me and my heart begins to unsteady. After a minute, I softly gasp at the hard pressure I suddenly feel, taking both of his arms._

 _"Are you okay?" He asks me. "Did I hurt you?"_

 _"No, no," I shake my head, breathing, "I'm okay."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Yeah," I ease the grip I have on his arms, "I just wasn't expecting that."_

 _"What?"_

 _"The...feel of it."_

 _"...Oh."_

 _"It's okay, though," I whisper, "Keep going."_

 _D looks down at me, eyes longingly piercing mine. "Okay."_

 _I close my eyes, wincing only slightly when he continues to ease into me. He breathes and I can hear and feel the arousal in him. I open my eyes and when I see that he's looking at me, as if waiting for my okay, I bring my arm up and around his neck and let the other one slide under his other arm to his back._

 _Dwight kisses me gently, before he lightly inclines into me, trying not to groan. Another small, sharp breath exhales from my mouth._

 _"Still okay?"_

 _I nod my head. "Yes."_

 _He nods back. "Keep going?"_

 _"Yeah, keep going."_

 _"Alright."_

 _Oh!_

 **...**

I empty my breakfast into the toilet at work. I've been sicker than a dog all night and most of today. The last time I was this miserable was during my pregnancy with Jolyon, except this time I'm not pregnant. I vomit one more time, before spitting into the bowl and flushing. I think I might be going through major withdrawals.

It's past shaky hands now. My anxiety is through the roof, I can't stop sweating, I'm also chilly, and my head feels like it's trying to balance a tank. I wanted to call in sick, but I can't keep doing that. I'm afraid it'll look bad to Jolyon's teachers. I don't want to give them something else to document.

Technically, withdrawals should have started a few days ago, but I had a little bit of a slip up. It was an accident. I was at my parent's house for dinner and afterwards, my mom brought out some almond coffee cake for dessert. Well, my dad likes coffee with cake and when he asked if I wanted any, I absentmindedly forgot that he adds a little a little brandy to his after dinner coffee. It was unintentional, but once it touched my tongue, I just quietly, nonchalantly drank it. I know, it was weak and I felt ashamed afterwards. But I haven't had anything else since then, I swear.

I leave the bathroom and wallow to the break room where I know there's ginger ale in the vending machine. Lourdes' voice can be heard from within, speaking low to someone else. She sounds a little tense, like she's trying to calmly talk to someone who isn't so calm. I go in to find her with her phone to her ear, definitely under pressure.

"I know," She says into the phone, giving me a little smile as I walk in, "Yeah, I'm going to, but I just need some time."

I pop four quarters into the machine and punch in the numbers for the can.

"Oh, so, what? You want her to go back to him, because it's easier for you?" She scoffs, "That's really selfish of you, you know that?"

She switches over to Spanish to make the heated phone conversation a private one, although I don't know why. I can understand what she's saying for the most part and she'll end up telling me afterwards anyway.

I pull back the lid to the can and take a sip. I'm trying not to think about barfing, because I most definitely could if I'm not careful. Lourdes hangs up the phone while the other person, Simon, I'm guessing, is still in the middle of what sounds like a rant.

"Fucking asshole." She grumbles.

"Everything okay?"

Lourdes rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "They're driving me crazy."

"Still not getting along?"

"No," She huffs down at her buzzing phone, "My mom thinks I should kick Simon out."

"Why?" I chuckle.

"Well, she doesn't like him and because we aren't married. She's old fashioned."

I wipe some sweat from my brow. "I take it Simon's not too thrilled with her either."

"He told her..." She sighs, cover her eyes, "He told her that he pays my mortgage, so he had more a right to live there than she did and then left for a few hours. Then, her and I got into it, because she tried to tell me he had too much control over things and is convinced that he's just like my dad, because she saw some little bruises when she walked in our bedroom as I was dressing. And that's another thing that pisses Simon off; she doesn't have boundaries."

"Oh," I sit down at one of the round tables, "Sounds rough."

Lourdes groans, having a seat next to me. "I told her that Simon is nothing like my dad. He's never laid a hand on me. Those bruises are just from sex...sorry if that's too much information."

"It's okay," I croak, drinking down some more ginger ale, "So, what are you gonna do?"

"Beats me." She rests her head in her hand. The bruise under her eye is starting to yellow. "I get where Simon's coming from on some things. With my dad, she use to just agree with him, but anyone else; she has not problem giving 'em a piece of her mind. And she has walked in on me dressing, or getting out of the shower a lot. Simon thinks it's weird and annoying, but she's my mom and she's always been like that. It's not on purpose, she was just wondering where the cumin was, or putting away my laundry. Oh, that's another thing! She's cleans the house."

"Why would that bother him?"

"Because she won't do his laundry," She snickers, "No, but she does everything around the house, she's always been like that, too, because my dad use to berate her about the house work, but it still drives him up the wall to always hear the vacuum going, or to have that strong, lemon scented cleaner smell all over the house." She sighs, tired, "We don't have any privacy."

"Well, maybe in a few weeks, she'll get her own place." I say, trying to ignore the aches I feel in my body.

"She'll need a job before she can do that," Lourdes huffs, "She hasn't worked since she married my father. He wanted her to stay home, you know, to cook, clean, raise the kids...give up her identity, until she all she can ever tell people about herself is that she's a wife and a mother."

I smile, sympathetic."Well, I'm sure she can find something."

"Yeah..."Lourdes looks me over, raising a concerned brow, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just...am fighting something," A burp slips out, "Excuse me."

"It's okay."

Avery, the school's principal, comes into the room and walks up to the coffee maker. "Ms. Alvarado, Ms. Barnes."

"Hey, Avery." Lourdes greets back.

"I got your email about the D.C. trip in April," Avery says, "Thank you for volunteering."

"Sure, "Lourdes replies, "It'll be fun."

"What trip?" I ask.

Avery glances our way. "The trip over spring break," He informs me, "Every other year, the school plans a trip to D.C. We take the students on a tour through the Smithsonian and a few other places."

"Oh, yeah, one of my students told me about that."

Lourdes smiles at me, "You should think about coming."

"Oh, I-"

"That's not a bad idea," Avery chimes in, stirring sugar into his coffee, "So far, Lourdes and Diane are the only two who have agreed to go. I'm going as well, but we need at least four more staff members to accompany us."

"I'll...I'll think about it," I finally tell them, "It'll depend on whether or not my parents can watch Jolyon."

"Well, let me know," Avery goes to leave the break room, before halting, "Are you feeling well, Pippa?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I wipe more sweat away, "The bad thing about my son going to Happy Hands is that he brings home whatever the bug of the month is."

Avery laughs, "I remember those days. Fortunately for me, all my kids are all a little older."

"When's Ada gonna start selling cookies again?" Lourdes asks him.

"Soon," He smiles, "I'll bring a couple boxes of thin mints as soon as we get them." He then looks back to me, suddenly remembering something. "Oh, Pippa, I almost forgot; softball tryouts are Thursday after school."

"Yeah, I got your email," I nod my head, "I already put flyers up last week and Diane has the announcement."

"Excellent," He smiles, "Maybe you can oversee one team and Negan the other."

I knit my brows. "Sorry, say again."

"Oh, you and Negan will be co-coaching both teams."

"Oh, I...I thought it was just gonna be me."

"Yeah, right." Lourdes snickers under her breath.

"Yes, well, he came into my office and claimed he had seniority over you and refused to give up his place as head coach."

"Well, he has baseball, too, doesn't he?"

"Yes, but he manages to do both pretty well," Avery tells me, "We do have a winning streak."

"Oh, okay..." I want to roll my eyes, but he's my boss.

"Alright, see ya later."

"Bye." We both say.

Lourdes chuckles. "I do believe Negan just pulled rank on you."

I scoff. "I can't believe he'd really do that."

"It's Negan, Pip," She laughs, "He wasn't gonna let someone usurp anything out from under him."

"I..." I stand up from the table, but too fast, so I know I'm gonna be sick again. "I gotta go."

 **...**

"Mom?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"When can we go home?"

"In ten minutes," I answer, typing some grades into my computer, "I just have to finish up."

"How long is that?" Jolyon asks from one of the desks.

"Not very long." I wince at the light from the windows and fish out some nausea and migraine pills from my desk drawer.

There's a melodic knock on the door, before it opens. Negan strolls in. "I thought you were still here."

"What do you want?"

"Hi!" Jolyon waves.

"Hey, kid," Negan smiles, then looks over at me, "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"I'm melting...or dying. Maybe both."

"Are you hungover?" He inquires with a solemn gaze.

"No," I scoff, drinking my third can of ginger ale with the pills, "I wish, though. Being hung over isn't nearly as bad as this."

Negan's eyes examine my clammy complexion. "You're going through withdrawals?"

"Bingo," I dryly retort, "Go away."

"You gonna be alright to drive home?"

"I'll be fine, so go."

Negan scoffs. "What's your fuckin' problem?"

"You," I snap, "Avery told me you put your dick out on the table and demanded to head coach the softball teams."

Negan chuckles. "Shit, I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Why did you do that?" I angrily demand. "Are you that big an asshole that you can't handle someone else coaching a sports team?"

"Well, I am head of the physical education department," He grins, "So, I do get to pull out the thick and veiny muscle every now and then when I have to."

I scowl, shutting down my computer. "It's petty."

"Or...I did it, so we could have an excuse to see each other more," Negan leans on the corner of my desk, "Ever fuckin' think of that?"

I huff, blinking towards him. "I think you did it because you're a narcissist, who can't handle losing something that gives you a sense of pride and self-importance, not so we could have sex."

Negan scoff into a chuckle at that. "Sure, honey."

I arch my brow. "I think you don't get any recognition at home because your wife outshines you, so you gotta over prove yourself here."

His humor lowers. "Fuck you."

"Oh," I snicker, turning his way in my chair, "I think I struck oil."

Negan stands and heads to the door. "Fucking bitch."

"Hey!" Jolyon points at him. "You don't call names!"

"Jolyon, get your stuff." I get up from my chair.

"Say you're sorry!" Jolyon tells Negan.

"Sorry, kid," Negan opens the door, "But I'm not fuckin' sorry." He shuts the door.

 **...**

It's about one in the morning and my withdrawals are getting worse, much worse. I ache down to the bone and my stomach feels like it's on fire. I haven't stopped vomiting since I put Jolyon to bed six hours ago. I don't know what dying feels like, but this has to be close. On a scale from one to ten, this pain is a twelve.

Everything's either heavy and dull, or inflamed and thumping in my head and heart. I cry on my knees on the bathroom floor as I feel more bile coming up. I literally have nothing in my stomach left to give. My body has detoxed from all food and drink. It trembles with my rest of my hands.

I wobble as I get up, before treading to the living room. I lay down on the couch, since I got sick on my bed after I tried to go to bed in an attempt to sleep it off. My head is both pounding and swimming. I close my eyes to ignore the sickness. If things don't get better soon, I might have to go to the hospital.

 _"Are you okay?"_

I furrow my brows and reopen my eyes. "D-Dwight?"

 _"Pippa!"_ His voice has an echo, as if he's far away, even though he's faintly standing right here in the living room. _"Pippa! Pippa, can you hear me?"_

"Y-yes, I can hear you," I slowly sit up, "What are you doing here?"

 _"Oh, god!"_ He puts his hand through his hair. _"Fuck!_

"What's wrong?"

Dwight looks off to the side in distress. _"Help!"_

"Hey, no!" I put my hand up for him to stop. "You'll wake..." I stop mid-sentence when I start to notice two things about him.

 _"Help! We're over here!"_ He waves people over, while holding his side.

I stare, confused. "Dwight?"

But he doesn't respond. That's one of the things I notice about him; he's not paying attention to me...like he can't even see me. He's called my name, but he's not looking at me.

 _"Over here!"_ He desperately calls, wiping blood from the cut above his eye.

That's the second thing I notice. He's Dwight, but...eighteen year old Dwight. I know because, well, because I'd recognize the old Dwight anywhere, but also because this is familiar. I know this Dwight, but I also know _this_ Dwight, as in where he's from in the past.

"Dwight?"

He turns around and gets down on his knees. _"Pippa!"_ Tears begin to well up in my eyes. _"Don't move, baby! They're coming!"_

I rub my eyes. No, no, no. This is not happening. I blink away some tears that slide down my face. Look at him, so frantic and worried.

 _"Help!"_

 **...**

Thursday rolls around and so do softball tryouts. It's been about four or five days since I've had a drop to drink and it's not getting any better. I manage to hold it all in as best as I can, but I think I'm starting to see and hear things. Sometimes little things, like my phone ringing when it's not, or the bell between classes. Sometimes, I hear Dwight's pleas for help, or a crash, or a beeping sound.

Negan and I haven't really had much to do with each other since Monday, but I'm too sick to care. Maybe I was harsh, but I was sick and on edge and he pissed me off by pulling rank on something like this. It's goddamn softball for Christ's sake.

I picked up Jolyon from down the street and was going to bring him along, but Lourdes offered to take him home with her until tryouts were over. Well, she practically begged me with the claim that it'll pause any bickering in her house, since her mom loves kids and will get too distracted to nag her or Simon. Jolyon was more than happy to go with her.

I've never coached softball before, so I'm not quite sure of how to go about these tryouts. I get to the field before anyone, which is fine, because I really just want a minute to myself. Tryouts are technically three days; today, Friday, and Monday and I'm not excited, if this pain and sickness doesn't let up.

"Get off the fucking ground." Negan says, stalking up behind me.

"Piss off." I fire back, before standing up.

"Do you just bowl over everyone who's fuckin' nice to you, or what?"

I brush off the dust from my pants. "Shut the fuck up," I retort, "All the girls are coming."

"So, was that a yes?"

"You're hardly nice."

"Nicer than that ass wipe that sends you on a bender."

"He never asked me to let him jerk off on my tits," I hiss at him, "Mr. Nice Guy."

Negan scoffs. "I didn't fuckin' know that made me a bad guy. Especially when you agreed to it last weekend. In fact," He leans over, "If I recall correctly, you had quite the dirty little plan of your own."

"Shut. Up." I warn him with a look.

All the students that want to try out show up presently in their gym clothes. Negan changed the announcements that I gave Diane and had all the students interested to come at the same time, instead of an hour separate like I had planned. Supposedly it's simpler to do it his way but he's probably just being a fucking alpha male prick.

"Welcome everyone," I greet them, trying to not seem grossly ill, "Let's start with roll call." I look over my clipboard. "Aimee Abbott?"

"Here!"

"Okay," I glance at the list again, "Renee Bailey?"

"Here!"

"Abbott, Bailey, Ramos, Johansson, Northcutt, Phan, Caine, and Mercado!" Negan lists a few names without looking at his roster, and then hikes his thumb towards the school buildings. "Get the fuck outta here and report back next Thursday for practice."

Those girls whose last names he just called all jog or walk off to where he directed. I look over my shoulder as they go, a little dumbfounded, before I peer over at him.

"What are you doing?"

"They're already on, or are moving onto varsity." He says without looking at me.

"They haven't tried out yet." I remind him quietly.

"Anyone here who didn't sign up?" He asks the group. Nobody answers, or raises their hands. "Alright, hit the track. Run a mile. Anyone not back to the diamond in seven minutes can go the fuck home."

The girls run towards the track/football field. The baseball/softball field is just behind the left side bleachers. I wait until they're all out of earshot.

"What the fuck?"

"I don't take roll call during tryouts." Negan goes over to one of the benches to sit.

"Diane wrote one out and-"

"Who the fuck cares?" He shrugs. "One, I know most of them anyway and two, no point in learning names of anyone who's not making the cut."

"That's rude."

"This isn't your cute little book club," He smirks, "These girls are here to play ball and let's be fuckin' honest for a minute. They're teenagers; they could probably make me cry, before I could make them cry."

"My book club isn't stupid." I grip the fencing. The sunlight is killing me, but I left my sunglasses in my fucking car. I don't have the energy to walk all the way to the parking lot to get them.

The day is an unseasonably hot one, which is so my luck. I want to coach softball, now more than ever just to spite Negan, but I can't wait for this hour to end. I do feel somewhat bad about saying that petty, mean thing I said about him the other day. We were getting along really well up until that point. It's hard to let it slide after we had a great weekend together.

His phone rings behind me. "Hello?" He picks up. "Hey."

I close my eyes as my body radiates with aches. The agony is like a cycle that keeps coming back around and around and around.

"Yeah, sounds good," Negan says to the other person, "I'll be home around five..." He chuckles, "Hell, no. When have I ever fuckin' held two separate tryouts? The new coach is a shit for brains."

I hold back every urge to shout that he doesn't think I'm such a shit for brains when my legs are wrapped around him, but I'm so miserable I can barely speak normally. Plus, I'd never forgive myself and neither would he.

"I am being nice," He continues, humored, "I have a few choice words that'd gladly say about her, if she weren't standing right here."

I flip him off without looking at him.

"Alright, I'll see ya when I get home," Negan concludes his phone call, "Love you, too. Bye." He's quiet for a minute as he presumably puts his phone back in his pocket. "They've got four more minutes."

"Yeah..." I barely say. My eyes open to the blaring sun. I forgot my sunglasses in the car and I don't have the energy to fucking walk all the way to the parking lot to get them.

 _"Pippa!"_

Oh, no. Not this again. I look over into the field.

 _"Pippa!"_ Dwight stands up, running his finger through his hair. _"Help! Help! We're over here!"_

"Go away." I tell him under my breath.

 _"Hurry!"_ He waves them over. _"She needs help!"_

I whine, leaning my brow on the fence. "Oh, Dwight."

 _"Pippa!"_ He gets down. _"Don't move, baby! They're coming."_ He holds his side. _"Shit."_

Tears trail down my face as I blink my eyes close at the memory. "Are you okay?"

 _"I'm okay,"_ He wipes away blood from the cut above his brow, _"Don't worry about me."_

I lick the cold, salty tears from my lips. "I'm stuck, Dwight."

 _"It's okay, baby, don't move. They're almost here; they're gonna get you out."_

"I...I-"

"What?" Negan huffs.

I blink once and Dwight's gone.

"Pippa!"

I turn my head. "What?"

"The fuck are you doing?" He furrows his brows at me.

"I..." I swallow, "I don't know what you're-"

"You're talking to yourself."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you fuckin' are, you bat shit asshole."

I exhale, fed up. "You know what? I'm gonna go." I stumble a little as I stalk past him. "You want the fucking coaching spot? Fucking take it you...you motherfucking...fucker."

"Nice comeback," He scoffs at me, "You okay there?"

"I'm fine."

"Pippa," Negan sighs, irritated, "Look, sit the hell down and call Lourdes to come pick your ass up. You look like you're gonna fuckin' collapse."

"I said I'm fine, dick face." I tread away a little faster to avoid anymore squabbling.

 **...**

Okay, I admit, maybe Negan was right. I probably shouldn't have drove over to Lourdes' house. I was so sick, I hardly paid attention. Someone's fuckin' looking out for me, because I could've, nay, should've gotten into an accident, but I didn't.

I ring Lourdes' doorbell, which sends the dog barking to the front door. I can just barely make her out in the glass oval of the door. I also make out Simon's frame walking towards the door.

"Sorry," He says as he opens the door, "But no soliciting."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

The vacuum goes off the living room. Simon's mustached face scowl, utterly annoyed, before he forces a smile. "Contemplating murder."

"With the vacuum cord?"

"Oh, I hadn't considered that, but it does sound like poetic justice."

"Simon?" Lourdes calls. "Who's at the door?"

"Some bible thumper trying to spread the good word," He shouts back, "And Pippa." He steps aside.

Every footstep feels like a mile walked as I go to the living room. The vacuum stops after the lady using it spots me.

"Mommy!" Jolyon springs up to his knees on Lourdes' couches.

"Hey, Jol!" I meekly smile.

"Are tryouts over already?" Lourdes asks.

"No, I just decided to go home early," I run my hand over my clammy forehead, "Negan was being an ass."

"He called my mom a mean name," Jolyon informs the older lady, "And he didn't say sorry."

"Ah, no," The woman politely feigns pity as she wraps the vacuum chord on the machine, "That wasn't very nice."

"Uh, Pip, this my mother, Pilar," Lourdes motions over to her, "Mama, this is my friend from work, Pippa."

The woman moves around the coffee table. She's definitely Lourdes' mom; aside from being two decades older, she's lovely just like her daughter. She extends her hand. "Nice to meet you, Pippa."

"Nice to meet you, too."

"Dios, mio," Pilar gasps as our hands touch, "You're very warm. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just fighting something."

"You know, she's right, Pip," Lourdes comes over knitting brows, "You don't look so good."

"I'm okay."

"Pippa, you're shaking." She looks concerned. "Maybe you should sit down for a little while."

"Let me make you some tea." Pilar goes into the kitchen.

"No, I'm fine, really," I blink a few times as my eyes start to lose focus, "I'm just fighting something is all."

 _"Pippa!"_

I put my hand over my eyes.

 _"Oh, god! Fuck!"_ He runs his hands through his hair. _"Help! Help!"_

I swallow again. "Dwight."

"What?" Lourdes says, bewildered.

 _"Don't move, baby! They're coming."_

"I'm...I'm-I'm stuck, Dwight."

"Pippa, Dwight's not here." Lourdes touches my arm, which makes me uncover my eyes.

"No, he's...he's not, but he is."

"Honey, you need to sit down."

 _"It's okay, baby. Don't move. They're almost here."_

"Dwight." I sighs, squeezing my eyes shut, "Dwight...I..."

"Pippa." Lourdes insists on bringing me over to the sofa.

"Lourdes, I..." I feel like something has just pulls me like water down a drain.

"Pippa!" She shouts.

 _"Pippa!"_

"I..."

"Simon, call 9-1-1!"

 _"Help! We're over here!"_

"Mommy!"

"Jol..."My eyes flicker all around. I'm suddenly on my back and I don't know how, or why. But I can't see, my eyes are fading.

"Pippa!" Lourdes calls my name.

"...Lourdes."

"Mommy!"

 _"Help!"_

My eyes rolls back and it all goes pitch black.

 **...**

 _I woke up the next morning in bed with him. We were still naked from the night before. I laid on my side, staring at him as he stared back. We did that for a good while, until the chaperones started to knock on the doors around nine in the morning. We then got up, showered together in silence, and left the room with our prom clothes packed away in our overnight bags._

 _We grab a quick bite to eat at the continental breakfast and then head out to his truck. Dwight drove us here, so we toss our bag in the back before climbing in. I watch other prom goers leave the hotel._

 _"Did you have fun?" Dwight asks me._

 _I look away from the hotel and glance to him. "Yeah, I did. Did you?"_

 _"Yeah," He nods his head, "I'm glad we came."_

 _I study his calm demeanor. "I love you, Dwight."_

 _Dwight turns his eyes towards me. "I love you, too, Pippa."_

 _A smile rises on my face. I scoot over to the hump of the truck seat. Dwight starts the truck and begins to pull out. After I buckle up, I rest my head on his shoulder._

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoy this week's chapter! As always, thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. I'm posting a little earlier than normal tonight, since I have to be up early for work (1 am *scream*). Being said, I don't have time to comment on the reviews like I usually do, so sorry for that! They are greatly appreciated!**


	35. Chapter 35

My eyelids feel heavy as I try to open them. I hear a slow beeping sound that hurts my head. I stretch my stiff back as I pull myself out of sleep. The bed is firm, yet comfortable, however I immediately am aware that it's not my bed. Concerned whispers stir out of nowhere and I can hardly make out the fuzzy people that appear to close in around me.

"Pippa?" I suddenly recognize my mom's voice. "Pippa, honey, can you hear me?"

"Mom?" I pry my eyes open with much effort.

"I'll go get a nurse."

My vision returns, though it's still not as clear. "Mom?"

"Oh, honey," Mom touches the side of my face, "How do you feel?"

"I..." I put my fingers up to my nose, "What's in my nose?"

"It's oxygen, baby," She strokes my hair, "You're in the hospital."

"Hospital?" My eyes move around the white room and takes in all the equipment. I now realize it's nighttime. It's sort of a deja vu feeling. "Why am I here? What...What happened?"

"You fainted at your friend Lourdes' house," She informs me, "She called 9-1-1 and called us from your phone."

"Fainted?" I wince at the splitting headache, "I don't understand."

"The doctor said you had severe dehydration and a fever of a hundred and three."

"What?"

The door opens and Audrey and a nurse in floral scrubs comes into the room. The nurse smiles. "Hi, Pippa. I'm Leslie, the RN on shift right now. How are feeling?"

"O-okay." I inspect the I.V. in my arm.

"Let's check your charts," Leslie goes over to the machine, "Vitals seem to be regular."

"Does that mean I can go home?"

"Pippa!" My mom shakes her head at me. "You need to rest and recover."

"Mom's right," Leslie sweetly smiles at me, "Dr. Carson would like to keep you for the weekend for observation and to ensure a full recovery."

"But I feel fine," I tell her, despite the headache and dry throat, "And I have work and..." I look around the room, "Where's Jolyon?"

"He's down in the cafeteria with your dad," Mom pets my head again, "Honey, you need to relax and listen to the doctor, okay?"

"But I-"

"Pippa, just shut up and listen for once!" Audrey snaps at me. "The doctor said your blood work showed signs of liver damage."

I'm silent as I stare at her furiously concerned eyes.

"It's pretty minor, compared to what I've seen in other heavy drinkers, "Nurse Leslie reports, "The doctor will go over it with you tomorrow morning, when he gets in."

"Go over it with me?" I knit my brows.

"Treatment options," She says, "I'm gonna go get you another rehydration bag and you can go ahead and take out the oxygen tube now that you're awake." She shuts off the oxygen tank at my bedside and helps my take the tube off, then wheels it all out the door with her.

When the door closes, Audrey looks over at me, arms crossed. You could cut the tension with a knife. Mom gives her a look that makes her lower her eyes and walk over to one of the paisley armchairs in the corner.

"Why don't I go get your father and Jolyon?" Mom pats my arm, before picking up her purse and walking towards the door.

After she leaves, my eyes blink towards my sister. "Thanks for coming."

"The doctor said if you were going through withdrawals." She replies, staring at the walls.

"I know," I croak, "I stopped drinking."

"Cold turkey?" She huffs, "You know that can be dangerous?"

"I do now."

"It's not funny, Pippa!" Audrey turns my way. "This is your health we're talking about! The doctor said you're on your way to having cirrhosis of the liver, if you keep up the drinking."

"I'm quitting, Audrey. That's why I'm here."

"No, you're here, because you're an alcoholic."

"I am not an alcoholic!" I nearly shout. "I just have a drinking problem."

"Oh, tomato, tomato!" She rolls her eyes. "And do you know how lucky you are? What if you passed out behind the wheel, or-or in the bathtub? What if you hit your head? Did you think about that? What if Jolyon-"

"Stop, okay? Stop." I fight down tears. "I was trying to get better, okay? I thought I could sweat it out. I've been working really hard to stop drinking and get my life on track and I don't need any fucking lectures from you right now. "

She lets out a frustrated growl. "You are such a fucking piece of work."

I rest my head against the angled bed, sighing. "Why don't you go home? I'm fine, you can see that, so now you can go home to your family."

"No, I told Ty I was staying the weekend to be with you and that's what I'm going to do."

I look her over. "So you can harp on me?"

"So I can make sure you're okay."

"Well, I am," I retort, "And I will be, so you don't have to stay."

"Yeah, well..." She licks her lips, agitated, "I want to."

I scratch the back of my hand. "...Thank you."

The door opens and Mom, Dad, and Jolyon enter the room. Jolyon looks very morose with big, puppy dog eyes.

"Hey, baby," I break into a smile, extending my hand, "Come here."

Jolyon cautiously approaches the bed, stopping at the side. He peers up in silence.

"Climb up." I encourage, patting the bed.

He hikes himself up onto the hospital bed and crawls a little closer to hug me.

"Are you okay?" I murmur into his ear.

"You fell down and Lourdes was scared." He muffles into my shoulder.

"I know, baby," I hold him a little tighter, "I'm sorry if I scared you and Lourdes."

He pulls out of the hug to look at me. His small hands cup my face. "Are you better?"

"I am better."

"Can we go home now?"

"Um, well, the doctor said I need to stay a few more days to make me even more better."

"But I want us to go home, Mom."

"I know, babe, but it'll just be for the weekend," I brush his curls, "So, you're gonna have to spend the night at Gran and Pop's."

"No, I wanna stay with you."

"Honey, I don't think you're allowed to stay the night here."

"Please, Mama," He moves onto my lap, "I don't want to leave you."

I hold back tears, so I won't upset him. "I'll be okay. There's a lot of nurses and doctors here." Jolyon's lip quivers and I see water pool into his eyes. "How about you eat dinner with me and then Gran and Pop will take you to their house to sleep and then you can come right back here first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Can I call you to check up on you?"

"Absolutely."

"Even very late?"

"Even very late."

"What if you're sleeping?" He asks me. "Will you wake up when I call you?"

"I will turn up the volume on my phone all the way, so I'll be able to hear you." I smile at him, pecking him on the lips. "Does it sound like we have a plan?"

Jolyon thinks for a minute, before sullenly nodding his head. "Okay."

"Good boy," I pat him on the back, "I'm proud of you. You're very brave."

"What's for dinner?"

I chuckle. "I don't know, but I'm sure they'll bring something soon."

"Okay," He crawls back to the side of me and snuggles down, "I love you, Mama."

I put my arm around him and rest my chin on his head. "I love you, too, Jolyon."

My parents and sister each give me a look that is telling. I know this isn't the end of it all. I know I'm gonna have to finally address my drinking problem out loud and have to walk the line from now on. If my liver is in the state that Audrey said it was in, then they aren't gonna keep shit to themselves anymore. Today's the last day that my problem is going to be the elephant in the room.

 **...**

I call the front office Friday morning to tell Diane I won't be able to make it in. However, she already informs that Lourdes took care of everything and a sub was already scheduled to stand in for me. Apparently, Lourdes told them about the dehydration and fever, which as far as I know is all that she knows about my condition. I'd hate to think the doctor's would tell someone about my drinking problem, if they weren't kin.

Lourdes called me this morning to see if I was okay. I told her I was and she said she'd be by after work to see me. She was running late, so she only told me a little bit of what happened yesterday, which is all recountable, except for when I blacked out. She had Simon call 9-1-1 and her and Jolyon rode in the ambulance with me. The only reason Simon drove to the hospital is so Lourdes would have a ride home. I was brought to Camden Memorial Hospital, because it wasn't far and I evidently wasn't in great peril to have to be taken to the hospital in Southcastle.

Jolyon skipped Happy Hands today, so that he could be with me as promised. He only called me once last night, right before bed. My parents had some errands to do, so they left him with Audrey and me. Audrey slept in the armchair, which was allowed because she's an adult. She only left for about an hour early this morning to go get some things from my house, including a change of clothes for her, since she came straight down here from her practice when my mom called her yesterday.

The doctor came in and greeted me before my parents and Jolyon even got here. He briefed me on my health and informed me about the minor tissue scarring on my liver. He assured me with a kind smile that with a proper diet and cease of alcohol consumption, that I will be fine and won't have to endure any treatments, or further ailments. I guess it's a good thing I was already headed in that direction.

"Mom, make the bed move up and down again!"

"Alright, but only one more time," I click the button on the remote, "I can't afford to buy the hospital a new one if it breaks."

My phone rings on the edge of my bed, next to Jolyon's coloring books. "I'll get it!" Jolyon grabs up my phone. "Here."

"Thank you." My smile lowers when I see its Negan.

Audrey's busy watching some dumb show on the overhead T.V. and texting back and forth with the nurses and vets at her practice.

I put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello?" Negan scoffs. "You're in the fucking hospital and you fucking answer with a goddamn 'hello'?"

"How nice of you to call," I retorts dryly, "But call back when you have a better tone." I hang up.

"Who was that?" Audrey asks.

"One of those debt collecting scammers."

One-two-three-four-five-six-sev- the phone rings again with his name on the screen. I smile to myself and wait at least three rings, before I answer.

"Hello, this is the hospital room of Pippa Barnes, can I take a message?"

"You're a fucking riot," He growls, "What the hell's going on with you?"

I hang up the phone again. Call it petty and childish, but I'm too tired for his bullshit attitude. I put my phone on silent, so I won't have to hear it ringing anymore.

Audrey looks over at me. "Was that the same caller?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Block their number."

I chuckle, setting my phone down on the bed, while Negan's name pops up on my screen again. "I'll let 'em sit and boil."

"Whatever." She replies, sticking her phone in her purse and producing a book.

"You know, you don't have to stay all day," I tell her, "You could go hang out with Mom and Dad, or something."

"No, it's cool."

"...Okay."

She scoffs. "What? You want me to leave?"

"No, I didn't say that," I sigh, "I just don't want to inconvenience you."

"You being sick isn't an inconvenience to me," Audrey looks over like I'm an idiot to think that, "You're my sister, Pippa."

I tug up on the red pair of socks the nurses gave me. "Thanks." I wiggle my nose, thinking or more. "And...Listen, I'm sorry for Christmas."

Audrey shrugs. "It's fine," She taps the back of her book as she reads, "I'm sorry, too."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," She exhales, closing the book with her finger in it, "I've thought about that night over and over and I was...it wasn't my place to say those things. I don't condone what you're doing, but-"

"I'm not seeing Dwight anymore."

"You're...you're not?"

"No," I shake my head; "We ended things a while ago. Him and Sherry are going to try to have a baby."

"Oh." Her voice lowers. I can see what she's thinking in her eyes, which avert from mine, because I know she won't bring it up with me.

"But I'm still, um, with the other one." I let her know, mildly ashamed.

Audrey nods her head, trying to keep her cool, because of Jolyon.

"I know it's wrong," I add, "And that it isn't fair to his wife, but I...I-"

"You know what?" Audrey gets up from the armchair. "It's none of my business." She runs her hand over Jolyon's head. "How about we go get some hot chocolate from the cafeteria?"

"Can I have marshmallows?" He asks her, sitting up on his knees.

"If they have them, sure."

"Can Mom have some?"

"I don't know," Audrey chuckles, "Do you think she's better enough?"

Jolyon crawls over to me and puts his hand to my forehead. "Do you feel better?"

Both my sister and I laugh. "Yeah, I'm feeling better."

"Okay." Jolyon gets off the bed.

Audrey takes his hand. "We'll be right back."

"Alright."

I lay back in my bed when the door closes and sigh. The hospital phone on the little end table rings. I look curiously at it, not knowing that it was phone for actual calls. I thought it was just for getting the nurses attention.

I pick it up. "Um, hello?"

"Ms. Barnes?" The on duty nurse says on the other end.

"Yes?"

"There's a man on the other line that's asking for you," She informs me with a uneasy sound to her voice, "I don't believe you were asked this, because you were still unconscious when you arrived yesterday, but is there anyone you don't want to know that you're at this hospital? Anyone who would cause harm to you or your family?"

I smile to myself, biting the corner of my lip. How pissed would Negan be, if I told the nurse he was a threat and had her tell him I wasn't here?

"Ms. Barnes?"

"Uh, no," I shake my head, "But tell the man to call back later. I'm resting."

"Okay."

I chuckle a little, putting my hands behind my head and staring up at the wall. Surprisingly, though I guess not that surprising, my eyelids start to droop. Maybe I am a little tired.

 **...**

 _"Hey, Pippa!"_

 _I put my Human Anatomy book in my locker, followed by my Statistics workbook._

 _"Pippa!" My friend, Alicia touches my arm. "Hey"!_

 _"Hi." I softly greet back, closing my locker door._

 _"A bunch of us are going down to the river after seventh period. You and D wanna come?"_

 _"Um, no, thanks," I shake my head, "You can ask D, but I don't want to."_

 _"Why not?"_

 _I bleakly shrug my shoulder. "I just don't feel like it."_

 _"Are you okay?" Alicia inspects my sallow complexion. "You don't look so hot."_

 _"Yeah, I think it's just my allergies," I give a meek smile, "Maybe next time."_

 _"Okay, sure," She nods, before her eyes flicker over my shoulder, "I'll catch ya later."_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"Bye!" She walks past me. "Hey, Breanna!"_

 _I sluggishly tread to the bathroom, before I have to get to seventh period. I feel like I might puke, but I can hold it in. The sink water's cold, even though I pushed down on the knob with the red dot on it. I bend forward so I can put some cool water on my face._

 _Some girl's faintly crying in the only bathroom stall that's closed. I glance over through the mirror as I use a brown paper towel to pat my face dry. I recognize the shoes on her feet, because I saw them earlier today in Anatomy._

 _I swallow down the sickness I feel. "Um, Sherry?"_

 _The sniveling stops. "Yeah?"_

 _"It's Pippa," I step towards the stall, "Is everything okay?"_

 _"I'm fine." She croaks._

 _From the crack between the stall door and the partition, I make out her hand reaching for the toilet paper. The roll makes a creaky sound as she pulls a strand off._

 _"Why are you crying?"_

 _"I'm not." Sherry replies tersely._

 _"Are you sure?" I ask, "Because you-"_

 _"Just go, Pippa, alright!" She snaps. "I just wanna be left alone, please."_

 _"Okay," I nod, sighing, "For what it's worth; Dean's an asshole and I think you deserve better."_

 _"Go away!"_

 _"Alright," I go away from the stall, "But it's true, you know? You deserve someone who won't take you to prom and then ditch you for some other girl."_

 _"Yeah, well, we can't all have boyfriends like Dwight," She sniffs, "Just go."_

 _I leave Sherry to cry in the bathroom and don't exactly hustle to my History class. I feel lousy. When I do make it, I've got a minute to spare before the bell rings. I take my seat in the desk next to D's, quietly getting into my backpack for my book._

 _"Hey, what took you so long?" Dwight asks me._

 _I shrug, opening my binder. "I was just talking to Alicia in the hall."_

 _"Did you read for the homework last night? Because I forgot to, so I need you to fill me in."_

 _"The Roarin' Twenties were roarin'." I briefly summarize._

 _"That's it?"_

 _I shrug again. "Pretty much."_

 _"Well, any important events or dates?"_

 _"I don't know, maybe," I lean my cheek in my hand, "I didn't finish it."_

 _"You?" He chuckles incredulously. "You never don't do the homework."_

 _"Yeah, well, I didn't do it last night, okay?" I mildly growl._

 _D stares at me, though I wish he wouldn't. "You didn't the homework for Anatomy either."_

 _"Nope."_

 _"Or Stats."_

 _"I didn't do any of my homework last night."_

 _"Why not?"_

 _I give yet another aloof shrug. The bell rings and Miss Hudson begins writing something on the chalkboard. I try to pay attention to the lesson, but my eyes just stare blankly and my ears are fading everything out. Never has an hour and ten minutes seemed so long and consuming. It feels like the walls are closing in on me._

 _"Hey!" He calls under his breath. When I don't answer, he nudges my foot with his._

 _"What?" I mouth, annoyed._

 _He very slyly slides his notebook towards the corner of his desk, revealing the message he's written in the corner. It reads; 'What's up with you?'_

 _I look over at his concerned, questioning face. "Nothing." I silently convey._

 _"Bullshit." He scribbles another note on the lined paper. 'You've been acting weird all day.'_

 _I shrug once more in response, sighing._

 _D writes below the second message. 'Just tell me.'_

 _I go to mouth a reply to him, but I don't get the chance._

 _"Pippa, Dwight," Miss Hudson addresses us, "Pay attention, please. You can talk after class."_

 _"Sorry." We say in unison._

 _After a minute or two, she stops watching us from the corner of her eye as she teaches. Dwight lightly taps my foot again. When I look back over, he circles the 'Just tell me' with his pencil and stares at me for an answer._

 _I carefully tear off a corner of my own paper. As I put pencil to paper, I hesitate a little before writing down my honest answer. I fold the note once and hand it to him, before the teacher sees._

 _He takes it from me and makes sure Miss Hudson's not paying attention, before unfolding the little paper to read it. His eyes fix on the words on the paper for a hard minute and it makes my stomach hurt. Finally, he looks over at me as if to see if I'm sure, or if I'm only kidding._

 **...**

"Pip!" Audrey shakes my shoulder to wake me. "Pippa!"

"Hm, what?" I stretch out of sleep.

"Mom said she's gonna bring some dinner to the hospital and she wants to know what you want."

"The hospital's serving dinner at five."

"You really want more brown broth and watery mash potatoes?" She huffs.

"...Tell her to pick something up from Lorelei's."

Audrey puts her phone back up to her ear. "Did you hear that?" She waits for a response, then looks at me. "She said, 'What do you want?'"

"I want the chicken sausage, cornbread, and gravy plate," I answer with a growling stomach, "And whatever pie they have."

She gives me a look. "You want breakfast?"

"And a side of fries."

"Are you serious?"

"Perfectly," I snicker, "I'm ill, I get to have whatever I want."

"Oh my god," She rolls her eyes, "Jol, baby, what do you want Gran to get you from Lorelei's?"

"Pancakes!" He tells her. "And hash browns, please."

"That's my boy," I put my hand up for a hi-five, "Cut from the same cloth as a his mama."

"Unbelievable." Audrey shakes her head.

"I want them to be the smiley face ones, Aunt Audrey," Jolyon adds to his order, "Um, and boy's berry syrup."

"Boysenberry." I translate when she arches her brow.

"Okay." She walks over to the armchair, repeating our order back to my mother.

"Hey, Mom?" Jolyon climbs over to me.

"Yeah?"

"Can I have some of your fries when they get here?"

"Sure, baby."

Jolyon slumps his shoulders. "Mommy, I'm not a baby."

"Oh, I'm-"

"But that's okay," He says, "You're sick, so you can call me that, if you want."

I smile at him, patting his leg. "Thanks, Jol."

"Does that hurt?" He points to the I.V. in my arm.

"No, it doesn't hurt."

"Why did they put that in your arm?"

"So I won't get dehydrated and so they can give me medicine to make me better." I glance over at the table over by the two armchairs and notice a thing of flowers. "What are those?"

Audrey looks at the table. "Oh, those came for you like ten minutes ago."

"Who are they from?"

"Your work sent them over." She brings me the little card.

"That was nice." I read the little get well soon card. "How long have I been asleep?"

"An hour, but you've been catnapping all day."

"Hm," I look around the room, "I still feel like I could sleep eight hours."

"Mommy, do we get to go home tomorrow?"

"No, babe," I smile sympathetically, "The day after tomorrow."

"Oh, okay..." Jolyon lays against me, "What about Pip?"

"Gran and Pop went over to check on him."

"Oh...What about the mail?"

"They got that, too," I snuggle next to him, "Are you a little homesick?"

"Mm, yeah."

"Well, maybe Audrey can take you home tonight." I glance over to her, throwing the suggestion out there.

"No, I'm good here," She protests, "Mom and Dad can take him back to theirs."

"You didn't sleep well last night, putting those two chairs together," I snicker softly, "I know, because you kept waking me up with your groaning and shifting around. Why don't you just take him back to my place, so he can sleep in his bed? You can take mine, if you want."

"I don't know, Pip, it-"

"Jolyon's tired and wants to go home and I don't think it's fair that he has to bounce from here to Mom and Dad's."

Audrey bites her lip. "I...I guess, but what if you need something?"

"I've got a button on the remote." I pick it up and wave it.

She examines me and then Jolyon at my side, before begrudgingly exhaling. "Fine."

"Thanks," I hold Jolyon a little tighter; "You wanna go back to our house with Audrey?"

"Yeah!" He laughs when I pepper his forehead with kisses.

"Good boy."

"Oh, hey, your phone has been on fire the last couple hours." Audrey points out.

"I know." I grin.

"Who the hell is calling and texting you so much?"

"Oh, just people from work, wondering how I'm doing," I bring the blankets up, "I'll get back to them later."

We watch T.V until Mom and Dad come back with our food. I'm famished, so I eat everything within twenty, twenty-five minutes. It all tastes so glorious, but eating hospital food could make a gas station sandwich taste like a gourmet burger. Jolyon makes the blankets a little sticky with his syrupy fingers, so the nurse said she'll bring fresh linens after dinner.

"Oh, Pippa, you know who we saw at the grocery store?"

"No, who?"

"Caroline." Mom tells me, wiping Jolyon's hands with a wet napkin.

"Oh." I glance down at my lap.

"I told her you were in the hospital and she-"

"You what?" I snap my head up at her. "Why would you tell her that?"

"Well, she wanted to know where I was Thursday night," She cleans Jol's face, "And I didn't know it was confidential."

"Did you tell her why I was here?"

"No!" She insists, "I knew you wouldn't want me to say. I just told her you had dehydration and a fever."

I groan. "Oh, Mom!"

"She was very worried about you! She said she's gonna pop in tomorrow as soon as she can."

"You shouldn't have worried her for nothing!" I rub my eyes, frustrated. "I don't want her to come here."

"Well, don't be rude when she shows up tomorrow." Mom orders me.

I cross my arms like a pouting kid. "Fine."

 **...**

Audrey must have enjoyed sleeping in my bed, because she said she would bring Jolyon back over first thing in the morning, but it's nine-thirty and I have yet to even get a phone call. I don't really mind, though. It has to be boring just sitting here all day. Hell, I should know, I have no choice but to sit here all fucking day.

Dr. Carson took my vitals and checked the monitors hooked up to me this morning. He liked the looks of everything and said he can't find any reason why I can't go home tomorrow, which is fantastic, because I miss my bed. The pain from detoxing has subsided, thanks to the I.V. in my arm. I'm pretty sure it's nothing but vitamins and stuff to keep me hydrated, but whatever's in the bag is working for me.

I scroll through all the missed calls on my phone, all of which are from Negan and Lourdes. Lourdes called just to ask me how I'm doing and to tell me she's gonna be by sometime today. According to her apologetic voicemail, she was going to come yesterday, but Simon wanted to do something else.

Negan has to be absolutely livid right now and it tickles my insides just thinking about it. He's left me seven missed calls, four voicemails, two of which are just him yelling "fuck!" before hanging up his phone, and a strongly explicit text message. Plus, I ignored his call he made to the hospital. Boy, am I gonna get an earful on Monday. He should be happy, with me out of the way; he was able to have complete control over the first two days of softball tryouts.

My phone rings in my hand and since it's Audrey, I answer it. "Hey, what happened to 'see you first thing'?"

"I overslept," She yawns, "And I figured I'd have Jolyon bathe and eat breakfast before we came over."

"Okay," I stretch my stiff, hospital bed body, "Sleep okay?"

"You're bed is SO comfortable!" She laughs. "I didn't know you owned nice things."

"Ha-ha, bitch."

"Right back at cha," Audrey cackles, "When's the last time you went to the store?"

"I don't know, last Sunday maybe. Why?"

"Your cupboards are barren."

"They are not," I roll my eyes, "I just bought food."

"Just like you just cleaned your house?"

"What?"

"Your house is a bit of a mess."

"Well, I usually clean up on Sundays, too."

"What am I supposed to make Jolyon for breakfast?"

"Eggs, bacon, toast," I tell her, "The usual."

"You don't have any bread."

"Oh, yeah, we were running low. Poptarts, then."

"Tell you what; I'm gonna tidy up around your house and then Jol and I are gonna grab some groceries before we come over."

"Oh, no, Audrey, you don't have to-"

"Don't argue," She interrupts, "It'll be nice to come home to a clean, stocked house, won't it?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Okay, I'll see you in a little bit. Bye!"

"Audrey!" I roll my eyes after I hear the beeping of her hanging up in my ear. I guess it's just as well, because there's a light knock on the door. "Come in." It's probably a nurse checking in on me.

"Hey!" Lourdes' smiling face enters the room with a small pot.

"Oh, hey." I touch my hair that's pulled up into a messy bun.

"How ya feeling?" She asks as Simon closes the door behind them. He seems to be carrying some tinfoil dishpan, rather carelessly in one hand.

"They got you hooked up to the good stuff?" He grins.

"I'm doing better," I smile at her, ignoring him, "The doctor said I can go home tomorrow, so I think I'll be okay to go back to work on Monday."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Lourdes insists, "Avery's already got a substitute lined up for Monday and the rest of the week, if you need it."

"Oh, god, no," I chuckle, "I'll be fine. Besides, spring break is like two weeks away, I'm not gonna take a week off now."

"Well, at least think about Monday." She looks down at the square wooden pot she brought. "Uh, I brought you some aloe vera and succulents."

"Oh, thank you."

"I know it's not the ideal kind of plants you give someone in recovery, but that's all they had the store that didn't look wilted."

"No, I appreciate it," I point over to the table, "You can set it over there."

"At least, you won't have to water as much," She adds with a laugh, "Oh, you got the flowers from the school." She inspects the flowers, huffing. "I told Diane not to get the gerber daisies. What are you twelve?"

I snicker. "It was nice."

"And cheap," She takes the tinfoil dish from Simon, "My mom made you some enchiladas. She went to visit my cousin today, but she said get well."

"Tell her thank you for me." I peel back the veil of foil on top. "Smells delicious."

"Yeah..." Lourdes pulls up a chair, "So, where's the boy?"

"He's with my sister," I put the foil back over the pan, "They spent all day here yesterday and got a little bored, so I sent them home and now I guess she's gonna spruce up my house."

"Oh, nice," She nods, "Have you...gotten any calls from Negan?"

"Is there a bathroom in this room?" Simon asks.

"Yeah, right there." I point him over.

"Much thanks."

I wait until he's closed the door, before answering. "Yeah, Negan called yesterday around third period."

"Yeah, that's about the time I told him where you were." Lourdes twists her orangey-red lips to the side.

"Oh, he didn't know before?"

"No, I only told the front office, but he came to my room after second bell to ask if I knew where you were," She replies, "Said that you were kind of out of it at tryouts and he knew that you were coming to my house, so...yeah, he was worried."

"Worried?"

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I mean, Negan thinks he has a good way of hiding it, but I know him well enough to know when he's biting his nails, so to speak. When I told him what had happened, he pressed me for information, but the bell rang, so he had to get back to the gym."

"Oh," I nod my head, oddly feeling like a jerk, "He called me yesterday, but I kept hanging up, or letting it go to voicemail."

Lourdes laughs. "Oh, that had to piss him off!"

I smile at her humor. "You told him what hospital I was at?"

"Yeah, well, he would've figured it out," She says, "If you weren't at Southcastle General, then you had to be here, so I just let him know when he asked. Why? Did he show up?"

"No, no," I shake my head, "I doubt he will, but he called the desk out there when I wouldn't pick up the phone."

"God, what a stalker!" She looks back at the bathroom door. "I wish he didn't come."

My eyes flicker to the door. "Simon?"

"Yeah," She tiredly smiles back at me, "We got into it again last night, after I wanted to come here to see you after work."

"Oh, well, it's alright," I assure her, "I understand."

"No, it's not," Lourdes quietly retorts, "He was being selfish...like always."

The toilet flushes and the sink turns on behind the door.

"This morning, he apologized, but it was only because he wanted to have sex."

Simon exits the bathroom, wiping his hands on a paper towel. "Alright, well, I'm glad you're making a speedy recovery and all, but Lour and I have to go."

"What?" Lourdes furrows her brows at him. "We literally just got here."

"Yeah, to check on her," He motions his hand out towards me, "And she's right as rain, so we can go."

"Well, I'm not ready to go," She argues, "I want to visit my friend."

"Yeah, well, I have to get to work," Simon replies, "And unless you have another ride, you're gonna have to get your ass up from that chair and hustle." Lourdes goes to respond, but Simon adds. "El pago de la hipoteca vence el lunes."

Lourdes' eyes lower and her mouth that was just about to fire back with an objection, closes. I can feel my blood boil as she starts to get up from the chair.

"My sister can give you a ride home," I blurt out, "Or my mom, either one wouldn't mind."

Lourdes glances over. "Oh, no, I don't want to impose. They probably just want to focus on you."

"No, really," I tell her, "My mom can't say enough good things about you for bringing me here and watching Jolyon before they got here. She wouldn't mind at all."

"I..." She looks over at Simon, "I guess, if she wouldn't care, I could stay a little longer."

"Sure," I smile, "They'll be over around noonish."

"Okay," Lourdes turns back to Simon; "I'll see you at home tonight."

"Alright, then," Simon indifferently shrugs, opening the door, "Hasta luego, chica." God, I hate his blasé way of saying things.

"Asshole," Lourdes gripes, "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lourdes looks at my I.V. "So, I...overheard the doctor's telling your parents that you, um...were showing symptoms of...alcohol withdrawals."

I peer down at my fingers, fiddling with them. "Um, yeah."

She has a look of concern on her face. "Is everything...okay?"

"I, um...I have a-"

I get another knock on the door. "Jesus," Lourdes rolls her eyes, "Did he forget the fucking keys?"

"It's probably just the nurse," I snicker, "Come in!"

The door opens and Caroline walks in. "Hi, sweetheart!"

"Hi, Caroline," I clear my throat, suddenly nervous, "You came."

"I did," She brightly smiles with a vase of purple tulips in her hands, "Dwight and Sherry are here, too, they're just looking for parking."

"W-what?" I pull the blankets up to my waist. "Dwight and Sherry are here?"

"Of course," She says, "Sherry called me this morning and when I told her that I was going to the hospital, she said she wanted to come, too, and check on you."

Fuck me. "Great," I try to sound enthusiastic, "Are those tulips for me?"

"I remembered that tulips are your favorite," Caroline smiles, putting the vase down with the others, "I just couldn't remember if it was yellow tulips, or purple that you liked best."

"Yellow," I smile at her, "But they're beautiful, thank you."

"Hello," Caroline extends her hand towards Lourdes, "Where are my manners? How are you? We've met before, right?"

"Yes," Lourdes greets with a smile, "I'm Pippa's friend. We work together."

"That's right, we met at the festival," Caroline sweetly says, before redirecting her attention to me, "So, dehydration and a high fever, huh?"

"Yeah," I glance briefly over at Lourdes, "I got so busy, I guess I forgot to take care of myself."

"Oh, honey!" She maternally frets. "Well, I'm glad you're okay."

A soft knock heralds Sherry and Dwight's arrival, followed by the door opening. "Hi!"

"Hey, Sherry," I force a sincere looking smile, "D."

"Hey," His eyes meet mine, but I have to look away, "How you feeling?"

"I'm good," I answer, "Uh, I'm going home tomorrow."

"That's good to hear," Sherry smiles, "We got you these." She holds out a small vase of yellow tulips. "I know Caroline already got some purples ones, but my husband said you'd want yellow tulips."

Dwight scratches the back of his head. "Well, I just thought they looked nicer."

"Yellow tulips are my favorite," I lightly smile, "Thank you."

Sherry awkwardly puts them next to Caroline's. "So, Caroline said you had dehydration."

"Mhm," I nod, then motion over to Lourdes, "You guys met Lourdes, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Sherry waves, "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise." Lourdes smiles.

Sherry seems a little off to me by the way she stands with her hands together. "Where's your son?"

"He's with my sister," I relay, "They should be here in the afternoon."

"Oh." She nods.

Dwight looks me over, then at all the equipment. "Uh, so when will you be okay to go back to work?"

"Well, technically Monday, but Lourdes said they've got a sub for me, so I'm contemplating taking the day off to just get back into gear at home."

"Oh, I think that's a great idea," Caroline gingerly touches my cheek, "You should make sure you've fully recovered, before you go back to work."

I smile at her. "I'll think about it."

Sherry holds her elbows. "Well, I hate to sound like we're in a hurry, but Dwight just got in from a haul and so he's been awake since seven a.m. yesterday."

"Oh, yeah," I wave them off, "Of course, go home. Thanks for coming."

"Well, we can stay for a little while longer," Dwight looks at Sherry, "I'm okay."

"Honey, you've been up for twenty-four hours, you need some sleep."

"Sher, I'm fine."

"She's right, D," I chime in, which makes them both glance my way, "You should go home."

He doesn't look like he wants to go, but I've told him to, so now he doesn't know what to say convince his wife to stay. He exhales, "Okay, fine. We'll go."

Caroline kisses me on the head. "Unfortunately, that means I have to go, too," She smiles, "They're my ride."

"Thanks for coming."

"You're very welcome," She grabs her purse from the edge of my bed, "I'll call you in about a week to see how you're doing. We can go to coffee."

"Okay, sounds good," I smile, "Bye."

"Bye, sweetheart!"

"Feel better, Pippa." Sherry waves as she opens the door.

"Thank you." I wave back. "Bye, D."

"See ya." He gives me an apologetic look, before exiting.

Lourdes watches them go and then her eyes blink to me. "She knows, Pip."

I turn my head towards her, knitting my brows. "What?"

"His wife, Sherry?" Lourdes elaborates. "She knows...or at least suspects something."

"What?" I repeat, this time a little incredulous. "She doesn't know." I bite my lip. "She wouldn't have come, if she knew."

Lourdes shrugs. "Then maybe she's just suspicious."

"What makes you say that?"

"She clearly did not want to be here," She chuckles, "She was all rigid and seemed a little irked to me. And aside from my asshole boyfriend, people don't just come and go like that when someone's in the hospital."

"Well, maybe she wanted Dwight to go home and rest first."

"Yeah, which would mean that they argued about coming and she lost," Lourdes raises her brows at me, as if to convey for me to think about it, "And the flowers? He picked them out."

"Well, that's because...we dated all those years ago," I explain, "I've always liked yellow tulips."

"Dios mio," She smiles, humored, "How many guys do you know that remembered what kind of flowers their old girlfriend likes? Let alone, what kind of flowers his wife likes?"

"Dwight's...considerate." I look at the yellow tulips, guilty feeling.

"With a hell of a memory."

I shake my head. "We aren't seeing each other anymore. We haven't been since February."

She shrugs again, reaching down into her purse to get her ringing phone. "Well, all I can say is she is definitely onto something."

My eyes go back to the tulips. Is she?

 **...**

Lourdes stayed until one, an hour after my parents, Audrey, and Jolyon get here. Jolyon was ecstatic to see her and I can safely say that she was just as thrilled to see him. Audrey brought me a change of clothes to wear home tomorrow and informed me that she cleaned my house, did some of my laundry, and bought two weeks of groceries. Mom and Dad brought lunch over, so I'm saving the enchiladas for dinner. Right now, it's just me and Jolyon. Mom and Audrey are taking Lourdes home and I gave Dad the go ahead to home. I also gave him the go ahead to bring back something from my favorite bakery, so we'll see if he delivers when he comes back later on.

Frankly, I'm glad it's just Jol and I for the time being. It feels normal, despite the shockingly white hospital walls. He's been pretty good; he just colors, or plays with the toy shark he brought in the bathroom sink. I was surprised when he didn't opt to go with my mom and sister to drop Lourdes off, considering how much he loves Lourdes. But, he said he wanted to be here with me, which is certainly no skin off my nose.

I feel so bad that he had to see me like that. Of all the times that I've been wasted, or hungover, I always made sure that he never saw the worst of it. Negan was right; drying up is the best thing for me and my son. I can't bear to put him through this again, or something worse if I hit the bottle again. He's young and doesn't understand now, but eventually, he'd grow up and hate me and then I'd hate myself more than I ever do now.

"Mom, read this one next, okay?" Jolyon points to one of the many books on my lap.

"Okay," I stroke his hair, "But let me finish this one first."

"Okay."

I turn a page from _The Lorax_. "UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." The phone next to my bed rings, so I reach for it. "Hello?"

"Ms. Barnes, there's a man and a woman down in the west lobby asking for your room number," The nurse tells me, "Should I give it to them?"

"Um, who are they?"

"I believe the receptionist said their names were... um, I'm not too sure, his name seemed a little strange to me, she might have said it wrong."

"Negan?"

"Oh, I think so!" She replies. "And the woman's name is Lucille, I think."

"Yeah, I know them," I sigh, "You can tell them where I'm at."

"Okay, thank you, I'll send them up." She clicks the phone down.

Double fuck me. I bite the inside of my cheek. Are all my sexual conquests going to be bringing their wives to my sick bed?

"Read this one now." Jolyon holds up _The Story of Ferdinand_.

"Uh, okay, baby, but I think we're about to have company."

"Who?"

"Negan and his wife, Lucille." I open the book to the first page.

"No, Mom," Jolyon objects, touching my arm with urgency, "He can't come in here!"

"Why not?" I ask, puzzled.

"He didn't say he was sorry."

"He didn't say he was..." I suddenly recall what he's talking about, "Oh! Honey, I know he didn't say sorry, but he probably is here to see if I'm better like Lourdes and Aunt Audrey."

"No!" Jolyon whines. "He was mean."

"Jolyon, it's o-"

There's a quick, but hard knock on the door. That was fast. We're on the third floor in the east wing, down the very end of the hall. I don't even get the chance to tell them to come in, because Negan just opens the door like the rude son of a bitch that he is.

"Hi." I greet, tucking some loose strands of my bun behind my ear. I know I look a mess, but what do I care? This isn't a social call.

Negan grins my way, but I know just under the surface, he's got to be ready to lay into me. "Well, look at you," He says, "You look like hell."

"Negan!" Lucille jabs him in the arm with her elbow, while holding yet another vase of flowers.

"No, you can't come in!" Jolyon points his finger right at Negan. "You have to go away!"

"Jolyon!" I move his arm down. "You be nice." A little embarrassed, I smile at them. "Sorry."

"Oh, that's just how most kids react to Negan," Lucille laughs, "I'm sure he deserved it."

Negan looks at her. "Uh, fuck you, this kid happens to adore me."

"Watch your mouth." She politely, but sternly warns him. "And it doesn't look that way to me."

"You have to say you're sorry!" Jolyon tells Negan.

"Sorry for what?"

"For calling my mom a bitch."

"Jolyon, don't say that word!" I firmly tell him.

"But that's what he said!" Jolyon complains.

"I don't care, you don't say swear words."

"Did you call her a bitch?" Lucille asks Negan, somewhat surprised, although I can't see how.

"Yeah, but to be fair, she had it coming." He explains, unapologetic.

She scoffs. "Well, apologize."

Negan exhales, with an unbelievable smile on his face. He shakes his head, gliding his tongue along his teeth. "Pippa, I'm...sorry, if I called you a bitch and it offended you and your son."

"Apology accepted." I smirk. I know he's not really sorry, but it's satisfying enough that he begrudgingly had to, after his wife told him to. "And Jolyon?"

Negan gives me a "go fuck yourself" look, before glancing towards my boy. "I'm sorry, kid."

"Accepted." Jolyon kindly accepts.

Lucille and I chuckle. She smiles at me and holds out the vase. "Um, we brought some peonies."

"Oh, thank you," I smile back, "They're beautiful."

She glances over at the table behind them. "I can see I wasn't thinking originally here."

I laugh a little. "I just hope I don't kill 'em all. I'm not much of a green thumb."

"Oh, well I heard aloe vera and succulents don't require a lot of work." She says, looking at the plants.

"Yeah, that's what Lourdes said," I scratch my nose, "She brought those to me earlier."

Lucille nods. "That was nice of her," She dryly replies, "So, how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better, thank you." God, how many times have I had to say that this weekend?

"What's in the I.V.?" Negan asks, wiggling the tube connected to my arm.

"Just something to keep me hydrated and to ease the aching."

"Oh, are you in pain?" Lucille inquires.

"Oh, yeah, just a little because of the-"

"The hit your noggin took when you fell?" Negan chuckles.

I look over at him, brows knitted. He smiles like he typically would, but I catch that his eyes very slyly blink to Lucille. "...Yeah, I hit it pretty hard."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay." Lucille genuinely smiles. "Will you be taking the week off to recover?"

"Oh, no," I shake my head, "Maybe just Monday, but I don't think I'll need to be gone a whole week."

"Well, if you need it, don't hesitate to take it."

"Thanks," I tell her, "And thank you for coming. I know it's a little out of the way."

"Please, it was a thirty minute drive. Negan wanted to come down yesterday, but by time tryouts were done, it would've been too late for visiting hours."

"Sure."

"Mom, I'm thirsty." Jolyon shakes my arm.

"Drink some of your water."'

"Can we get some hot chocolate?"

"Maybe when Audrey gets back, she'll take you down, okay?"

"Aw!" Jolyon frowns.

"I know, but I'm hooked up to the I.V., remember? I can't take it down there."

"But Aunt Audrey's not coming back 'til later."

"Well, then you'll have to wait 'til later."

"Oh, I could take him down, if you want," Lucille offers, "I think we passed it on the way here."

"It's okay," I smile, "He can wait."

"I really can't, Mom." Jolyon informs me. "Please!"

I roll my eyes. "Go get the five from my purse."

"Oh, no, I've got it." Lucille insists.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Uh, okay," I let Jolyon get off the bed, "Behave yourself, okay?"

"Okay," Jolyon offers his hand to her, "Do you wanna hold hands, so we don't get lost?"

"I would love to," Lucille smiles warmly at him, taking his hand, "We'll be back."

They leave the room and I can hear Jolyon's friendly chatter outside in the hall. I sigh, as if I can take the tension I feel off my chest now that she's gone.

"What was that?"

"Pardon?" Negan replies in the chair Lourdes moved close to my bed.

I turn my head his way. "I didn't hit my head."

"I know."

"So, then why did you tell her I did? You're the only person who knew before that I was detoxing."

Negan shrugs. "A while back, on New Year's, I told her I stayed the night at a coworker's house after drinking and to make sure you were fine, because you had a drinking problem."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, I didn't obviously say it was you, or that I was with a woman," He explains, "She thinks this alcoholic teacher I'm helping out is a man."

"I'm not an alcoholic."

"Yes, you fuckin' are, and being said, if she knew you were going through withdrawals, she'd put two and two together."

"...I guess."

"So, what's the damage?"

"My liver has some minor damage," I report, sheepishly, "The doctor said I had to stop drinking, or else I could develop cirrhosis."

"Jesus."

"Yeah." I mouth.

"You're fuckin' thirty-one."

"Thirty-two in May."

Negan grimaces, shaking his head in disbelief. "Goddamn you."

I nod my head, studying him. "Are you mad?"

"What do you fucking think?" He asks in a low, angry voice. "I fucking call and you-"

"I didn't feel like getting chewed out by you," I snap, "And for what? Because I passed out from my withdrawals?"

"Because I told you to fucking call Lourdes to come pick your ass up."

"I blacked out _at_ Lourdes' house."

"Lucky you, because it could've been worse," He retorts, "What if you had been driving, huh? With the kid in the car?"

"Shut the fuck up!" I shout at him. "Stop fucking chiding me like I was drunk off my ass, alright? I'm getting clean and it's a messy process."

Negan's scowl eases up as he mulls over what I said.

"Trust me, I would have loved to have just downed a bottle of gin to take it all away, but I didn't," I continue, "I didn't, because I know that it's for the greater good for me and Jolyon."

He reclines a little in the chair, putting his feet up on my bed. "You didn't back slide?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be here," I scoff, "I'd be going on like normal."

"Yeah," Negan nods, sucking air in through his teeth, "Well, good for you." He says with a change of tone. "Staying all straight and narrow. I'm real fuckin' proud of you."

I huff. "Thanks, but I don't fucking need your approval." I look down. "So...were you worried about me?"

"Yeah, I was," He admits without sarcasm, "I was shitting bricks all day yesterday after Lour told me."

I chuckle under my breath. "Hence the stalkerish calls and texts? You know, I could've put you on a list that would've barred you from entering this hospital?"

"Well, if you would've just picked up like a big girl, instead of fuckin' around like a child, then I wouldn't have had to call after you."

"I wanted to piss you off and it worked," I smirk, "Oh, and why the hell did you bring her here?"

"She wanted to come," He answers, "When I told her you were in the hospital, she said she'd ride along."

"The flowers were her idea, I take it," I arch my brow, "You're not considerate enough to think of that."

He chuckles. "No arguments there."

I breathe through my nose. "You shouldn't have brought her here."

"Why not?" His grin peaks up. "Were you planning on locking the door and going at it with me?"

"The doors don't lock, stupid, and I didn't know you were coming over," I retort, "I meant, that it's weird for you to bring your wife along to see your..." I twist my lips to the side. I don't know what to call myself that would sound even remotely flattering.

"My very good friend?" Negan snickers.

I roll my eyes... then widen them. "Oh, fuck!"

"What?"

"Jolyon's with Lucille," I stare at him in terror, "He might say something to her."

Negan's grin lowers and his move to the door.

"Maybe you should go check on them?"

He gets up from the chair. "Shit. Where's the damn cafeteria?"

"First floor, to the left of the elevators."

"Fucking hell." He pulls the door open and heads off.

I put my hands over my face like a mask. Please, don't say anything. I love my son more than anything or anyone in this world, but goddamn it, if he isn't the most honest and innocently open kid that's too sweet to know not to tell the truth.

Frustrated, I pull the covers off me and wheel my I.V. to the bathroom. How the hell am I gonna handle this, if he already let it slip to Lucille that her husband and I are "very good friends"? I'm not bold enough to try and defend myself or my actions to her. And Negan would break things off with me, if it meant she wouldn't leave him. And then...he would continue to go behind her back with me like he did Lourdes.

I turn the sink on to wash my hands, but I just look at myself in the mirror. Am I turning into Lourdes? Am I becoming the woman that he screws around with, even after we've been caught? I shut the water off. He hasn't ever said he loved me, unlike Lourdes, so maybe I'm not becoming her.

"Mom?"

I open the bathroom door and find the three of them reenter my room. "I'm here. I was just going to the bathroom."

Jolyon hands Negan his little cup, so that he can climb up on the bed. "I got a bagel, too!"

"You did?" I get back in bed.

"Yeah, Lucille got it for me."

"Thank you." I say, a little nervous.

"Well, he said he was hungry," She smiles, "I hope it was okay."

"Yeah, its fine." I glance over at Negan, who seems to be okay. We must be safe.

"Here," Jolyon hands me a little tub of cream cheese, "The bagel has chocolate chips in it."

"Oh, sounds yummy."

Jolyon pulls out a flimsy plastic knife from his other pocket that doesn't even have a serrated blade, so I can use it to spread on the cream cheese.

"Here." Lucille gives me the bagel and then the cup from Negan's hands.

"Thanks," I smile at her sincere smile, then back to Negan, "So, how have tryouts been going?"

"They're over," He reports, "We finished up yesterday."

"I thought Monday was supposed to be the last day?"

"The teams are already formed."

"I thought we were supposed to make that decision together?"

"You left early on Thursday and were here yesterday," Negan grins at me as he wanders the room, knowing that he's angered me, "I did call you, but you didn't answer." Oh, you dick.

"Wait," Lucille peers over at her husband, "She's the assistant coach you called a shit for brains?"

"She's the one."

"You are such an asshole," She gripes, putting her hand over her eyes, "I swear my husband's a bigger child than the highschoolers."

I laugh, pulling Jolyon's bagel apart. "Yeah, I got the sense of that."

"Mom, cut them both in half."

"I know, Jol." I take the two halves and cut them in half.

"Your son is so cute," Lucille beams, "And such a polite young man."

"Well, he back sasses me every now and then, but he's alright," I scrunch my nose at him, "I'll keep him."

"You're lucky." She smiles kindly. Negan looks over his shoulder at her from the window.

I subtly glance between them, before lowering my gaze to Jolyon eating part of his bagel, while looking over the book we were about to read. "Yeah, I am."

Lucille takes a soft breath and looks down at her small wristwatch. "Well, we better go, if we want to make those dinner reservations."

"Date night?" I ignore the look Negan gives me.

"We made plans to meet some friends tonight."

"I didn't know you had friends, Negan."

His wife laughs. "He doesn't," She tells me, "I do. He just gets to tag along."

I cackle with her. "That sounds about right."

"Fuck both of you." Negan scoffs.

Lucille pats his arm. "Oh, come on, honey. Take a joke." She blinks back to me, "I'm glad to see you're okay, Pippa."

"Thank you and thanks for coming down and for the flowers."

"Of course," She tucks some hair behind her ear, "Well, we'll let you rest."

"Bye."

"Bye!" Jolyon waves.

"Bye, Jolyon!" Lucille waves back to him.

Negan follows his wife to the door. "I guess I'll see ya at work."

"Tuesday."

"Yep," He glances over at me as they walk out, "We'll do lunch, talk about softball."

"I'd like that." I softly reply, giving him a light smile.

"Do you want some, Mom?" Jolyon asks me about his bagel.

"Uh, sure, baby," I let him lean against me, "You wanna read some more?"

"Let's color."

"Okay, sounds good."

 **...**

 _The bell rings and everyone gathers up their notebooks, pens, and textbooks, cramming it all inside backpacks with eager haste to get out of school. Dwight and I do the same. I pack up a little quicker, so I get up from my desk and head to the open door._

 _My locker's not far from the classroom. I spin the three-digit combination on my lock and then open my locker. I see D coming over from the corner of my eye._

 _"Hey." He puts his hand on my locker door._

 _I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. "Hey."_

 _Dwight waits for some other kids to pass, before asking. "Are you sure?"_

 _"I...I don't know."_

 _"Well, why do you think that, then?"_

 _I shrug, shutting my locker. "I'm late," I move around him, "My mom wants me home early, since my sister's coming home for the weekend."_

 _He walks after me, stopping me by the arm. "Hey, stop for a second."_

 _"Can we just talk about in the car?" I continue to tread towards the parking lot._

 _It was Dwight's day to drive, so we walk to his truck. I open the door to the passenger side and climb in. He does the same on the other side._

 _"Pip?" He asks after watching me buckle my seatbelt. "Can we talk about it now?"_

 _I lean my elbow on door, drooping my head in my hand. Tears collect around the rims of my eyes. "Can you take me to the pharmacy, please?"_

 **...**

My eyes open at the sound of the door to my hospital room opening. It's about seven-thirty at night. When my eyes focus, I curiously furrow them at the last visitor of the day.

"Hey," I say with a dry throat, "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, I was on my home. I thought I'd stop by to see how you were."

"Still good, I'm just tired. I've had a lot of visitors today." I sleepily chuckle. "Just take a gander at my garden over there."

He snickers, sitting down in the chair next to me. "Where is everybody now?

"My parents, Audrey, and Jolyon left about...twenty minutes ago. They brought me dinner."

He looks down at his hands. "I'm...real sorry about this morning."

"For what?"

"For the way she acted."

"Oh," I look him over, "She was just looking out for you, D. You were tired, I could see it."

"Yeah..."

I lick my chapped lips. "Where were you coming from?"

"What?"

"You said you were on your way home," I clarify, "Where were you before here?"

"Uh, at my mom's." Dwight tells me.

"Oh, how come?"

He shrugs. "Just to help her move her couch around."

I study his features. "Visiting hours are over at eight."

"Yeah, I know," He nods, "But I was...worried about you."

"Well, I'm okay. Just a little dehydration."

"Really?" Dwight gazes up at me. "That's all it is?"

My eyes scan his face. "Yeah, what do you think it is?"

"I don't know..." He runs a hand down his face, "I just don't like see you like this, Pip."

"It's no big deal, D."

"Well...it all just seems familiar and I can't stop thinking about..." His eyes meet mine, "About last time."

I nod my head. "Yeah, I know."

"I care about you, Pippa," Dwight tells me in the dark, "Even if you and I are technically not on good terms, I...haven't stopped caring."

I lay in bed, staring at him. I possess half a desire to ask him to pull the chair up closer, even though it's already fairly close. "I care about you, too, Dwight."

I count to five in my head, before lifting my hand up from the bed and reaching out with no other motive than just wanting to hold his hand in mine. Dwight glances at my hand, then at me, before he takes my hand. The hold is gentle, yet strong.

 **Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoy! Hope it wasn't too boring, considering it took place in one room.**

 **CLTex: I'm happy you like Negan's softer side with Pippa! It may go further...**

 **Jam86: So glad you enjoy the story!**

 **Guest (possibly StTudnoBright?): Yeah, it was foolish of Pippa to think Negan would give up a coaching position lol! And yes, more and more is going to start to surface as Pip works to stay sober.**


	36. Chapter 36

"Mom!" Jolyon shouts from the top of the yellow slide. "Mom, are you watching?"

"I'm watching!" I wave from the bench. I keep my old softball hat and sunglasses on, because my eyes are a little sensitive to the sun at the moment. The shades were kept drawn in the hospital all weekend, so now I feel like a vampire.

I was released from the hospital on Sunday evening and decided to take Monday off to relax at home. Well, that was the plan anyway. I slept in until about eight, made breakfast, watched T.V. with Jolyon for four hours, made lunch, and then I sat back on the couch. I decided to take Jolyon to the park just to get a little fresh air. My house smells like a fucking florist shop from all the slowly dying bouquets in my kitchen.

Jolyon slides down, leaping to his feet at the bottom. "Did you see that?"

"I did!" I chuckle, reaching into my purse for my ringing phone. I look at the caller i.d. and answer it. "Hello?"

"What are you wearing?"

"A t-shirt," I answer, while keeping an eye on Jolyon, "And nothing else."

Some kids scream and laugh as they chase each other around the park.

"Where the hell are you?"

"At a public park," I tell him, "It won't be long now, before the police arrive, but it'll be worth it if it makes you happy."

"I should've known better than to think you'd actually indulge me and play along,"

Negan scoffs, before chuckling, "I thought you were supposed to be at home, resting?"

"I'll rest when I'm dead," I smirk, "Or readmitted into the hospital again. Whichever comes first." I wave at Jolyon again. "You headin' home?"

"Nope, I've got baseball tryouts."

"Fun."

"How ya feelin'?"

"Good, just tired."

"They give you any meds?" He asks.

"Only something to help my liver."

"I still can't fuckin' believe you've got early signs of cirrhosis," He says, irritably, "You're thirty-one."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, stop reminding me."

"You know, there's an AA meeting at the rec center in Barton."

"Barton?" I puzzle my brows. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"It's the on the way to Southcastle."

"Oh, yeah," I nod, remembering the signs, "How do you know there's meetings there?"

"I looked it up."

"Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?"

I groan. "I don't need to go to those meetings. I'm not an alcoholic."

"Your liver would fuckin' beg to differ."

"Mom!" Jolyon waves inside the jungle gym.

I wave back. "Look, I'll admit that I have a drinking problem, but I'm not an alcoholic."

"Really, because a lot of people would say that's fucking potato, potato."

"Fuck, you and my sister would really get along."

"Is she hot?"

"You're not good enough for her."

"I'm not good enough for Lucille, either, but that never fuckin' stopped me," He snickers, "But seriously; you should go."

I sigh lightly. "Can't I just get sober?"

"Sure, but staying sober is gonna be hard."

"No, it won't," I shake my head, "I have great motivation." I smile towards Jolyon. "And you and my family's not gonna let shit slide now."

"You're goddamn right about that," He claims, "But I bet those meetings are filled with people who know what you're going through. It might do you some good to talk to 'em."

"I don't know, Negan."

"I'll go with you, if you want?"

I look down at my lap. "What will you tell Lucille?"

"I'll tell her I'm helping that 'male' coworker," He tells me, a little humored, "She'll understand."

I exhale. "I don't know...I'll think about it."

"Alright," He agrees, "I gotta go. The boys are coming back in from the track."

"Okay," I smile, "Be nice."

"Nice doesn't win championships." Negan chuckles, before hanging up.

I put my phone back in my purse, standing up. "Jolyon!"

"What?"

I motion him over. "It's time to go, babe."

"Aw!" Jolyon whines, walking my way.

"I know, but we have to go to the pharmacy." I take his hand in mine.

"Are we getting the medicine to make you better?"

"Yeah."

After we pick up my liver pills from the pharmacy, we drive down to the ice cream shop down the street. It's a lovely day and the weather's beautifully hot. Ice cream was pretty much invented for days like this.

And...I may be overcompensating a tad for the stress I put Jolyon through. He's been really clingy these past couple days and I know it's because of the scare I gave him when I blacked out at Lourdes'. At the hospital, he asked the nurses to be gentle when they were changing my drips. He kept worrying that they'd accidentally pull my I.V. and blood would go spraying all over the place. He hasn't wanted to leave my side, which is sweet, but it makes it hard to pee in peace and privacy.

Jolyon also got really protective of me when Negan stopped by and it was cute and all, but he was still really upset that Negan came in when he didn't want him to. I don't know, maybe I'm being silly, but I just feel so bad that I put him through all this. The drinking, the hospital, and the confusing affairs. He unknowingly has me in a good spot, because Jolyon could ask for anything at this point and I wouldn't say no.

"Can I get the chocolate chip and the cookies and cream?" Jolyon points his finger on the glass.

"That's basically two of the same flavors, Jol," I chuckle, before I shrug my shoulder, "But if that's what you want, then-"

"Wait!" His eyes scan the glass. "Let me think for a minute, please."

"Okay," I smile at the girl behind the counter, "I'll take a double scoop of the pralines and cream."

"Sure."

"What's that one?" Jolyon points.

"It's bubblegum."

"Oh, I want that one!" He immediately says. "And the cookie and cream."

"Okay."

"And can I get sprinkles?"

"Yes."

"But not the white and orange ones."

"It's a rainbow mix, babe, you'll just have to pick 'em off."

"They taste weird to me."

"I know," I pay at the register, "Thank you."

"Can we eat outside?"

"Well, actually, I was thinking we take these home and eat them after dinner."

"But they'll melt!"

"Yeah, but I don't want you to spoil your dinner."

"I won't, I swear!"

I laugh. "Alright, we'll eat outside."

"Yes!" Jolyon sits on the green bench to the right of the shop, instead of the white lattice tables.

I sit down with him and we eat without talking for a few minutes, since Jolyon's occupied with picking off all the white and orange sprinkles. I think about what Negan said about AA. I don't know if it's for me. I'll admit that I have a problem, but I don't know if I want to call myself an alcoholic.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call Dad?"

I savor the ice cream on my spoon, awkwardly inspecting it when I pull it out. "Um, sure."

I reach into my purse for my phone. I scroll through my calls, looking for the last time Jolyon called him which was way back in February. I hit the dial button and hand him the phone. Jolyon puts it to his ear and waits.

My eyes scan out to the parking lot as I hear the humming of a truck. Fuck, I recognize it. Are you fucking kidding me? It parks closer to the deli three shops away.

"He didn't answer." Jolyon says, disappointed.

"Well, leave a message," I tell him, "After the beep."

Jolyon nods. "Hi, Dad, it's me! Call me back, please. Okay, bye!"

"Good job."

"When will he get the message?"

"As soon as possible," I look back to him, "He'll call back when he can."

"You know what? Just forget it, Sher; I'll do it myself."

I turn my head back towards the deli and the agitated voice. Dwight appears to be on the phone as he gets out of his truck. I don't think he sees the two of us here.

"No, no, it's fine," He argues, "I mean, it's on _your_ way home, but I'll take care of it."

"Hey, Mom, that's-"

"I know," I lower his pointing finger, "Eat your ice cream."

"Oh, don't fucking start that shit again!" Dwight yells. "I do not always get like this in April!"

I spoon some of my ice cream into my mouth, still observing.

"Yeah, well, I'll be gone for three days, so lucky you." He hangs up the phone, cursing as his puts it in his back pocket.

"Let's go say hi, Mom."

I watch Dwight go into the deli. "Um, maybe next time."

 **...**

"Ow!" I cackle. "You're crushing me!"

"Lift your damn leg."

"My leg is lifted, moron."

"I meant the other one, dipshit." He taps my bare leg.

"I can't," I push up against him, "You've got me pinned."

Negan lifts himself up a little. "There."

I giggle up at him. "Negan, this isn't working."

"It will, if you move your fucking leg up."

I start to sit up. "No, it won't. The backseat of your car is not roomy enough."

"Well, where the fuck did you have in mind?" He scoffs, getting off of me.

"The trunk of my car," I put my leg across his lap, "I've taken many a suitor back there and it does the job."

He huffs. "Who? That prick that led you around?"

I smile. "You'd let him lead around, too, if he fucked you the way he fucked me in the trunk of my Jeep."

Negan laughs, patting my leg. "He's that good, huh?"

"Carpet burns felt like badges of honor."

He grins. "Homewrecking whore."

I chuckle as I stare up at the roof of his car. "I'm not a homewrecker."

We both laugh. Negan's fingers trail up my leg. "Did you think about what I said about AA?"

I watch his hand. "I don't know. What am I supposed to say?"

"I think you start off with; 'Hi, my name is Pippa and I'm a goddamn alcoholic' and go from there."

I grin wide, laughing. "What if I'm not an alcoholic?"

"Then you're in denial."

I wait for what sounds like two students laughing to pass. "No, I've always known."

"That you're a drunk?"

"No, I've always known why I drank."

Negan looks over at me. "Why?"

"Same reason most people drink," I put my arm across my forehead, "To forget."

"I'm guessing it's hard to forget."

I take a breath. "Yeah, it is. I drank to forget, but I never could and the next thing I know, I'm drinking just to feel normal."

"What'd you do when you got pregnant with the kid?" Negan asks.

"I quit," I say, remembering, "Well, I..."

"You what?"

I take another breath. "When I found out I was pregnant, I...contemplated going to the clinic a few miles from my apartment."

Negan doesn't say a word, or a judgment. He just looks at me.

"I was actually on my way there, when I changed my mind."

"What made you decide not to?"

I smile fondly at the ceiling. "I got nervous. I stopped off at this little barbeque place and as I was sitting by myself, devouring a pulled pork sandwich and trying to hold back tears, this lady about my age came in with her baby that had to be at least a year old. It was hot out that day and the baby was fussy and crying, pulling on her blouse as she was trying to order and she was struggling to get her to calm down, while trying to get her wallet out of her purse. I remember thinking; 'God, I can't do that.'"

"But?"

"But then she sat down at the table next to me and put the baby in one of those little wooden highchairs and everything was fine. The baby settled down and was happy," I chuckle, "She kept offering her foot to her mom and the mom would tickle her and she'd just laugh and laugh."

A smile peeks up in the corners of Negan's mouth. "And you changed your mind?"

I glance over to him. "Yeah. Best decision I ever made."

"I'll second that notion," Negan taps his fingers against my thigh, "That kid's a riot. I like him a fuck ton better than I like you."

"Even though he straight up chewed you out?"

He chuckles. "He was defending you, I can respect that."

"Seemed to me you didn't have a choice," I tease, "Between my son and your wife, you really got ganged up on."

Negan laughs. "Yeah, that was a real punch in the dick."

I sit up and straddle him, lifting up my dress. "I thought it was cute. Lucille really likes Jolyon. Not that I'm surprised; he is from my own stock."

"Trust me, he didn't fuckin' get his likeability from you." Negan retorts, nicely gripping the sides of my thighs.

"You like me well enough." I pull back my head when he goes to kiss me, teasingly.

"I like your dirty mouth," He grins, "More so, what I can put in-"

"Shh," I cover his mouth, "Keep talking like that and you'll be needing a cold shower."

"How about a hot shower instead?" Negan muffles from under my hand. "We've got time to make it over to the locker rooms."

My lips curl into a smile. "No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because the students change and shower there," I explain, chuckling, "Duh, dumbass. It'd be weird if we went in there."

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me for trying to change the scenery."

"Take me to a motel and fuck me in those showers." I taunt.

"Yeah, fucking right," Negan scoffs, "Like I'm taking your ass to another motel. Not after what happened last time."

"Last time was great," I laugh, adjusting myself on his lap, "Some of the best sex I've had."

"You almost got the fuckin' cops called on us."

"No, _we_ almost got the cops called on us."

" _We?_ " Negan repeats, incredulous. "Did you have a fuckin' mouse in your pocket? Because if we is you and me, you better be fucking kidding me?"

"Yeah, _we_ pissed that guy off who called front desk after we fucked the wallpaper off his walls."

Negan bursts out laughing. "Man, that guy's dick was in twist."

"He probably tugged too hard, listening in on us." I plant my mouth on his.

"Mm, that turn you on?"

"Mhm," I kiss him more passionately, "That and when you bent me over that table." I can feel his erection underneath me. "And when I got on top of you, similar to now."

Negan's grin grows. "I couldn't see the hockey game, because of you."

"The team you were cursing at weren't winning anyway."

He puts his hand under my dress and slides it up to my back. "Just so we're clear, Pippa; almost getting the cops called was all you."

"Fifty-fifty split."

"That's not even remotely fuckin' close."

"Alright, alright! I was drunk and high," I comb my fingers through his hair, "I think it's safe to say that I was not thinking logically." I kiss him. "But, come on, we had fun."

"You more than me."

"Well, what can I say?" I laugh. "You're a good bed fellow."

Negan kisses me. "Sounds accurate."

"I think we better get to it, before the bell-"

The bell rings to indicate the end of the lunch hour.

I sigh. "Rings."

"Fuck, you ran your mouth too long."

"Me?" I arch my brow. "You were the one asking me questions."

Negan groans, leaning his head back. "I guess we'll pick it up after school."

"I've got Jolyon, you know that."

"Put him down for a nap."

I chuckle. "He's four, Negan," I climb off of him, "He doesn't nap all that regularly these days." I fix my underwear around my waist. "And besides, he's been a little leech lately. I've never seen not want to go to school."

"Why? 'Cause of the hospital stay?"

"Yeah," I slide my clogs on, "So, there will be no fuckery of any sorts."

"Well, there's always tomorrow." He puts himself back into his pants.

"Sure." I put my hand on the door handle. "See ya."

"Hey, Pip?"

I look back. "What?"

Negan taps his finger on the seat. "What is it that you were trying to forget?"

I stare at him. Why is he asking me that?

"Was it because you and that guy broke up when you were teenagers?"

My fingers close around the handle. "Why are you asking?"

Negan shrugs. "It just seems a little dramatic to drink like that over a high school break up. Don't you think?"

I glance out the window. "Yeah, you're right," I open the car door, "But it wasn't just about him."

"Then what the hell was it about?"

"We're gonna be a late." I get out of his car and shut the door behind me. I smooth out my dress, before I start to walk back towards the school.

 **...**

"You have to take one daily?"

"Yeah, until the doctor says I don't have to and he didn't say if that was soon or...ever."

Lourdes nods. "Well, I guess it's not so bad."

"No."

She looks me over, turning her coffee cup on the table. "So...you're an alcoholic?"

"No, I'm not. I just have a little bit of a drinking problem, but I'm getting a handle on it."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Here, Jol," I hand him a napkin for the milk moustache above his lip, "So, how's your mom? Those enchiladas were delicious."

Lourdes rolls her eyes. "She's decided to move in with my cousin, Yadira."

"Oh."

"Yeah, when my mom went to see her, I guess she offered to let her move in, because no one in my family who's met Simon likes him, so..."

I don't think anyone who's ever met Simon, save Lourdes, likes him.

"Well...maybe it's for the best, right? I mean, you've been really stressed out since she moved in and I know it's put a strain on your relationship."

"I guess...Yadira is single and her apartment's pretty spacious," Lourdes takes a sip from her coffee, "It's just...I hate the fact that she didn't feel welcome in my home."

I nod. "Simon's not exactly heartbroken, I take it."

"I've never seen him in such a good mood," She huffs, "She walked in on us the other morning and he just...got up and left and...didn't come back until after midnight." She twists her mouth to the side. "It was seven forty-five in the morning when he left."

"Maybe he was working."

"Yeah..." She sounds doubtful.

"Guess where I'm going, Lourdes." Jolyon says, before he bites his half of a scone we're sharing.

"Hmm," Lourdes pretends thinks, "Disney World?"

Jolyon looks confused. "What's that?"

Lourdes looks at me. "He doesn't know what Disney World is?"

"...No."

"Disneyland?"

"Uh-uh."

Her eyes widen in shock. "Well, has he seen any of the movies?"

"Yeah, we have some of them at home, I just...can't afford to fly out to either with ticket and hotel prices on top of that, so I figured that what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him."

"Tragic." Lourdes shakes her head, chuckling. She turns back to my still bewildered son. "Where are you going, bebé?"

"I'm not a baby, Lourdes," Jolyon tells her, "Only my Mom can say that, because she was sick and so we have to be nice to her."

"Oh, I'm sorry," She chuckles, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Texas!"

"Oh, to Austin?"

"No,Houston," I clarify, "That's where his dad lives."

She nods her head. "Oh, I thought he didn't have much to do with..." Her eyes flicker towards Jolyon, "You know."

I look down. "Well...Jolyon called him the other day and he returned the call this morning and invited Jolyon to come visit him over spring break."

"Is his spring break the same as ours?"

"Apparently."

"And you're letting him go?"

"I..." I look at my tea, "He asked if Jolyon could fly out during the holidays and I flipped and said no and in hindsight, I think maybe I was a little harsh. Besides, Jolyon's been wanting to see him and he's paying for his ticket, giving me his "utmost guarantee" that Jolyon will be fine to fly on his own. I guess the plane will assign a stewardess to watch him."

"Jol wants to go?"

"Yeah and when asked me this morning, I...couldn't say no."

She nods again. "Okay."

"I figured my parents wouldn't have to watch him when I go on that trip to D.C."

"Oh, so you're gonna go?"

"Yeah, it sounds like fun and I don't want to hang around the house with nothing to do all week."

"That's great!" Lourdes smiles. "I'm so excited!"

"Yeah," I smile, "Me, too."

"It'll be fun to get away, even if we'll be chaperoning," She drinks from her cup, "Simon's making me homicidal."

"Things will get better."

Lourdes' eyes lower. "Yeah, maybe."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just..."

"Just what?"

"Sunday morning, we were laying in bed together and I asked if he thought I was fat, because my mom has been dropping little hints here and there, if not just flat out telling me I'm fat."

"Uh-huh."

"He said no and then said my mom was a bitch," She goes on, "I laughed and told him that she joked that her wedding dress was a size two and I'm a size eight, so I wouldn't get it passed my hips."

"Rude."

Lourdes laughs. "I know, like I would put on that old frock she keeps in her cedar chest." She then sighs. "Anyway, Simon said he liked my hips and we starting making out and then he said 'And it's not like you're gonna need a wedding dress any time soon anyways.'" Lourdes wiggles her nose, as if to stop tears. "I don't know. I know it shouldn't hurt, but it kind of did."

"Did you tell him that?"

"What for?"

"To let him know that you were hurt by it."

She shrugs. "He'd just tell me to suck it up and stop being a crybaby."

"Well, you should still tell him," I tell her, "Even if he's an ass about it, you still deserve to be heard when something upsets you. You never know, he might listen and not be so callous."

Lourdes chuckles under her breath. "You don't know Simon," She watches Jolyon "read" his book, "So, I heard that Negan and Lucille showed up at the hospital."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"From the horse's ass," She answers, "He told me Monday. Nay, he bragged to me on Monday, as if I was somehow barred from Your Majesty's sick bed."

I laugh. "What an ass."

"Yeah, like I give a fuck that he visited you. I swear, he's just some overgrown child."

"Totally," I clear my throat, "So, Negan's really being nicer to you, huh? He asked you how you were this morning in the break room. Sounded pretty sincere."

She rolls her eyes. "It's temporary. Ever since my dad hit me, Negan's been asking how I am. It's just because he..." Lourdes trails off in thought.

"Because he…?"

"Uh, because his dick must have been getting lonely without you around. No offense."

"None taken."

"He'll be back to pissing me off soon," She smiles at me, "Was Lucille pleasant to you?"

"Yeah, she was really nice," I smile, remembering how sweet she was to Jolyon, "She brought me some really pretty peonies and took Jol down to the cafeteria for me."

"Yeah, she loves kids."

"I can tell," I reply, before thinking of something, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How come they don't have any kids?" I ask her with a hushed voice, as if it's top secret. "I mean, they both like kids and have been married for over twenty years. Why haven't they ever had any of their own?"

Lourdes shrugs. "I don't know, to be honest."

"Oh, I just thought maybe you would, since you know him a little better."

"No, he never brought it up and I never asked," She informs me, "I always just assumed that it was because of the affairs, you know? Negan's probably screwed around on her long before he met me, or you. That oughta put a wedge in the bed as the years go by."

"Why didn't she ever leave him?" I inquire, grossly curious. "You said she left him for a few days after she found out about you."

"Yeah, but maybe she never had proof, before she answered his phone that one time," Lourdes speculates, "I don't know...all I do know is that he is the problem in their marriage, but he damn near fell apart when she threatened to file for divorce."

"That...doesn't seem like Negan at all." The mere thought of it makes me uncomfortable.

"Oh, please. That big dick on campus crap is just a mask. He needs her more than he admits."

I look at my reflection in the lacquered polish of the table. "Yeah..."

 **...**

"Mom, get that one!"

"Jolyon, that's tomato juice." I push the cart further down the aisle to the lemonade juice boxes.

"But it looks good."

"Well, looks can be deceiving," I wait for him to catch up, "The only way that's coming into my house is if one of us gets sprayed by a skunk."

"I like skunks," Jolyon holds onto the side of the basket as we walk, "I think they're cute."

"They don't smell cute."

"How long before we can go, Mom?" He asks.

"A little longer," I say, moving away from the groceries, "I just need to grab a few more things."

"What things?"

"Cat food and private stuff."

"What private stuff?'

I drag a medium sized bag of cat food from the shelf. "Grown up stuff."

"What kind of grown up stuff?"

"Well, none of your business."

"That's rude, Mom!"

"Well, so is being nosy," I chuckle, going down towards the aisle three more down, "How are we on band aids?"

"We need more!"

I smile, knowing that no matter what our band-aid supply looks like, he'll always say we need to pick some up. "Alright, why don't you pick some out right there?"

"Okay!"

"But you can only pick one box, so make sure you're sure which ones you want."

"I will!" He inspects the boxes on the shelf behind me.

I grab a box of tampons and toss 'em into the basket. But that's not what I was keeping secret from Jolyon. I know it sounds awfully young for him to know what they are, but when you're kid's unrelentingly precocious, you find a way to delicately put it to him that his mom bleeds sometimes out of her private parts. He just automatically drew up the conclusion that it was because I was a mom. That periods only happen to moms, because they had baby's come out of they're "crotches." I don't know where he got that idea, but sometimes it's best not to get into it with him. He just gets confused at my awkward, indirect answers and then asks more questions that get harder to explain.

I grab a box of condoms and drop them in. That's what I'm not ready to explain to my kid. I also get a thing of lubricant and conceal it and the box of condoms on the side of the box of lemonade.

"You pick one yet?"

"I want these ones!" Jolyon puts a box of star band-aids in the cart.

"Good choice."

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"What's Disney World?"

"Goddamnit, Lourdes," I grumble below my breath, "Um, it's...like that state fair we went to that one time."

"It has a rides?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Cool," Jolyon puts his finger up his nose, "Have you ever been?"

"Um, yeah and get your finger out of your nose."

"How come we haven't gone together?"

I curse Lourdes' name again. "Um, because it's closed right now."

"Why?"

"For...cleaning and repairs."

"How long?"

"You know, I don't know."

"When they're done, can we go?"

"Sure, maybe."

"Okay."

"Well, if she said you can come home, then just head home."

I look ahead when I hear his voice again. Dwight's going down the cereal aisle with his phone to his ear. I move our cart to get in line.

"Let's check ourselves out." Jolyon points to the self-checkout lanes.

"Oh, okay."

"She's not a little kid, Sherry," Dwight argues, quietly, but sharply, "She doesn't want you to come up there on short notice to check on her."

I try not to eavesdrop as Jolyon and I scan our items, but he's literally right there.

"First of all, I don't want to hear about that and second, she's an adult. What are you gonna do? Tell her she can't...have sex?" He says the last two just barely audible. "Well, I'm sorry, but I agree with Tina; you need to back off her a little."

"Mom, what are these?"

I look down. "Shit, um, nothing." I scan the box of condoms and then quickly scan the lube and put them in my reusable bag.

"So, are you coming home?" Dwight asks. "What time will you be leaving tomorrow?" He hangs his head, exhaling. "Because I'd like to know, that's why."

"Mom, can I do the buttons?"

"Look, I'm gonna go, alright? I'm tired." Dwight says, frustrated. "Bye."

"Mom!"

I glance away. "What?"

"Can I press the buttons?"

"Oh, sure." I slide my card and then hoist him up to the pad. "Ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, the first number is zero."

"Zero." Jolyon parrots, pressing his finger to the zero button.

"Two."

"Two."

"One. Seven."

"One. Seven!" He happily shouts.

"Okay, now let's just hope no one steals my card in the parking lot," I put him down, "Because you definitely gave away my pin."

"Hey."

I turn my head back. "Oh, hey, D."

"Hi!" Jolyon waves.

"Hey," D smiles and causally waves back, "How's it goin'?"

"Good." I ball my receipt up and stick it in my purse.

"You look a lot better."

"Yeah, I'm making a speedy recovery."

"Good, that's...good." He doesn't have anything in his cart.

"So, what are you making for dinner tonight?"

"Uh, I was gonna grab something, but I think I'm just gonna get some take out instead," Dwight scratches the back of his head, "It's just me tonight."

"Oh, where's Sherry?"

"In D.C."

"Oh," I nod my head, "Well, I guess we should get out of the lane, so people can use it."

"Oh," He looks back at the impatient people behind us, "Yeah."

Dwight follows Jolyon and I out of the grocery store. I keep our bag on the opposite side, so he doesn't peek in.

"This is us." I say, using the button to unlock the car. "Jol, go get in your booster seat and wait for me."

"Okay." He opens the right side back door and climbs in.

I turn to Dwight, who's lighting a cigarette. "So, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah." He nods, exhaling.

I fold my arms. "What kind of take out are you getting?"

"Don't know, I haven't decided yet."

My finger taps my elbow. "Well, um, Jolyon and I are having fettuccine and garlic bread. Jolyon wanted to try brussel sprouts, so we'll see how that goes. Anyway, I always end up making too much pasta...you could come over and, uh, have dinner with us, if you want."

He looks down in thought, as he puts his cigarette up to his lips. "I don't know, Pip. That doesn't seem like a good idea."

"Yeah..." I scratch my nose, "Well, see ya later."

"Later."

I go around to the driver's side and open the door to the back to buckle in Jolyon. "You ready to head home?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." I shut the door, looking over at Dwight. "What is it?"

"Nothing," He shakes his head, "It's just...we can still be friends, right? Like hang out from time to time?

"You're married and we slept together. I don't think Sherry would like us hanging out from time to time."

"Yeah, but we'd be having dinner," He blows smoke to the side, "Tonight. That's it."

I look over my shoulder into the car, and then back at him. "So, are you changing your mind?"

 **...**

The evening turns out really nice. Dwight followed us home for dinner and it was completely normal feeling. Not awkward, or tense. Jolyon played in the living room, while Dwight and I prepared and cooked dinner. We didn't talk about the fight we had two months ago, we just cooked and asked how each other's jobs were going. I asked about Sherry, but he just said she was fine and then stepped out front to smoke.

Jolyon said he was going to play in his room about thirty minutes after dinner, but when I went to check on him just now, he was laying on his bed, asleep.

"I tell you," I chuckle, walking back into the kitchen, "I lucked out with that kid. He never argues about bed and will just put himself to there."

Dwight puts the last dish on my drying rack and then unplugs the sink. "He's all tuckered out?"

"Well, he turns into a pumpkin after eight-thirty, so yeah," I put my hand on my hips, "You didn't have to do the dishes. I was letting them soak."

"Yeah, you and Sherry both, but it's just easier to do it now."

"Whatever." I chuckle, padding on into the living room.

"Did Audrey leave already?" He dries his hands on his shirt as he walks in, "She lives in Richmond, right?"

"Yeah, she's already back," I sit on the couch, "She was just down to check on me."

He nods, leaning on the arch of the kitchen. "So, do you have to go back for more tests, or check ups?"

"No, well, yeah, but not for a while." I rest my hand on my hand. "I really appreciate you coming to see me. Especially after the things I said."

"Oh, well, that's water under the bridge now," Dwight rubs his cigarette fingers together, "I said my share of shit I probably shouldn't have said."

I smile lightly. "So, is everything alright with Tina?"

"Yeah, fine, why do you ask?"

I shrug. "You said Sherry was in D.C. I just assumed it was because of Tina."

"Oh, it is, but nothing's wrong," He glances down, "She left Sherry a voicemail at three in the morning and she sounded sick. Sher got it this morning and panicked. I was coming back from a three day haul down in South Carolina when she called me, freaked out."

I knit my brows. "What was wrong?"

"Nothing," Dwight snickers, "Tina called her by accident. She got drunk at a party and was puking her guts out."

"Oh," I laugh, "But what was Sherry supposed to think? I can understand that."

"Yeah, but Tina told her everything was fine and not to come up, but Sherry...thinks she can just mother over her and drove up anyway."

"I take it that it didn't go well?" I smile, pretending I don't already sort of know that.

"Well, Tina thought Sherry was turning around, so she wasn't expecting her."

"And?"

Dwight inspects his hands, embarrassed. "I guess...she walked in on her and some guy...in bed."

"Oh, my god!" I cackle, throwing my head back. "How funny! I mean, totally mortifying, but funny!

He chuckles. "Yeah, she stills thinks of Tina like a kid and so she's all up in arms, asking her who that guy was and how long she had been seeing him."

"And Tina told her to butt out." I conclude.

"Yeah, so Sher's staying the night in a motel and Tina's not taking her calls."

I calm down my laughter. "That's hilarious."

He smiles, coming over to sit down. "Yeah, well, she needed to hear it. She means well, but Tina doesn't need or want her to hover her."

"I get it, though," I sigh, "Jolyon's only four and his independence crushes my soul sometimes. A couple months ago, he told me he could bathe himself and he might as well have just ripped my heart out." I smile a melancholy smile. "Something as little as him washing his own face with a cloth and pouring a cup of water over himself was enough to break his poor mom's heart. That's probably how Sherry feels, you know? I mean, when their parents died, she probably just shifted into mom mode in order to make sure that Tina was well looked after."

"Yeah..." Dwight's eyes lower to his hands as he listens.

I breathe in and out. "It's hard. That feeling of not being needed as much is hard." I peer over to him. "I mean, she should let Tina be an adult, but I get it."

"Now I feel like an ass for telling her to lay off her."

"Don't be," I say, "She'll be mad, but she'll realize it after a good night's sleep."

"Thanks."

"Sure," I look him over, "She'll get over it once she has an actual kid."

He turns his head. "Oh, we...aren't trying at the moment."

"I thought you were."

"Well, we were, but, uh...we've been kind of going through a rough patch the last couple of weeks."

"Oh?"

"It's nothing serious, you know, just...she thought she'd get pregnant just like that, but she hasn't yet, so it's frustrating her."

"Has she gone to the doctors?"

"Yeah, they said everything's fine," Dwight exhales, "She's just impatient. When she wants something, she wants it now, you know?"

"But...you guys aren't trying right now?" I furrow my brows. "How come?"

"Well, I mean, I guess we technically are still, but we've been bickering, so-"

"Oh," I nod, "I see."

His eyes trail down. "Yeah."

"Well, best of luck to you," I yawn again, "I'm sure you two will get pregnant in no time." I sleepily laugh. "It always seems to happen when you aren't trying. Tell her to take it from me."

Dwight looks back up. "That's what my mom said."

"Well," A chuckle escapes from me, "She'd know, too."

"Yeah, well...Sherry's not really appreciative of all the helpful tips any of her coworkers, or my mom are selling."

"That has to be awkward," I snicker, "Your mom giving your wife advice on how you two-"

"Let's not go there, Pip." He cuts me off. We both laugh under our breaths.

I sigh at the end. "Thanks for coming over and helping me cook."

"It was fun."

"It was delicious," I smile, "I didn't know you could sauté mushrooms and garlic together."

"You do now."

We chuckle together. The cat saunters past us and down the hall to find Jolyon's open door.

"So, how are things between you and that guy at your work?" Dwight asks after a minute.

"Um, good," I recall this afternoon at lunch, when Negan and I had sex in his office, "We're getting along really well."

"Is he your...boyfriend?"

"Uh, we're not really putting any labels on this whole thing right now," I bite my lip, "We're just hanging out."

"Oh," He nods, obviously aware of what that means, "And Jolyon likes him?"

"Jol adores him," I pull my hair back into a ponytail, "Thinks he's the coolest guy in the world."

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah." I put my head back in my hand, looking back at Dwight.

His thumb runs over finger. "I really worried about you, Pippa."

"I know, you told me."

"I know, but..." His eyes flicker behind me, "Do you mind if I smoke out there?"

"No, go ahead." I watch him rise, clearly trying to hide the fact that he's bothered.

He opens the slider door and steps out. I study him for awhile, as he pulls out his cigarettes from the pocket of his short sleeve shirt, puts a cigarette between his lips, and fishes around his jeans for a lighter. I gingerly get up from the couch and foot it over to the open door.

"Can I bum one off you?" I murmur.

"Yeah." He offers his pack to me.

I go outside and the air is temperate and warm. I pluck out a cigarette and let him light for me. I inhale and exhale. I should probably quit smoking next, but one step at a time. "So...What were you gonna say to me, before you came out here?"

"Forget it." D shakes his head.

"I don't forget very well," I tell him, "So, tell me."

He sighs, facing the yard and taking a nervous drag. "When I heard you were rushed to the hospital, I...I was afraid you...I don't know, hurt yourself, or something."

I knit my brows. "You...thought I tried to hurt myself?"

"I don't know."

"I have a son," I croak, somewhat offended, "I wouldn't do that to him."

"I know, I just...I know you drink a lot and it's that time of year again and I just...fucking panicked that you got drunk, or something and got into your car and got into an accident." He deeply exhales, covering his eyes with his hand. "I feel like an asshole for thinking all that, but-"

"I don't drink a lot." I deny, even though I know I'm lying.

"I could smell it on your breath when I'd come over," He retorts, turning to look at me, "That, or weed."

I close my mouth, nothing to say.

"Look, I just thought about our argument a couple months ago," Dwight adds, "You were really upset and last week was a hard week for me and it had to be worse for you."

I stare at him, puzzled. I almost want to say, 'Well, yeah, I was detoxing,' but he wouldn't know that.

Dwight can apparently see that I haven't a clue what he's talking about. He scoffs. "You don't know what was last week?"

My eyes search down for some idea. Last week? Let's see, I was in excruciating pain, vomiting, hallucinating. My brain draws on the hallucinations I was having. They were memories, really. The same memory, over and over again. The memory of when...

I mouth peels open and my heart drops into my stomach. I find his eyes and mine go blurry. "I...I was...I was sick. I must have forgot."

D looks me over. "Well, it's alright," He puts his cigarette up to his mouth, "Doesn't matter."

"No, it does matter," I stick my hand on my forehead, suddenly overwhelmed, "I never forget. I can't...it's like this...this clock that goes off every year."

"It's like you don't even need a calendar." Dwight looks down at the ground."It comes over you out of nowhere."

I whimper as I breathe out, feeling tears slide down my face. "I can't believe I forgot."

"You were sick."

"That's no excuse."

"Pippa," Dwight drops his cigarette and steps on it, "Don't beat yourself up. It happens."

"Not to me!" I cry, a little too loudly. "I never forget, Dwight! I can't!"

He steps my way, hesitant. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." I put my cigarette out and storm back inside. How could I forget? The slider door closes behind me. "You should probably go."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be...I'll be fine," I walk towards the arch that leads into the kitchen, "You can go."

Dwight walks over, quiet and uncertain. "You'll be okay?"

"Y-yes." I wipe the tears from my face.

He looks at me. "You hesitated."

"I'll be fine." I retort, despite the desire to drink weighing on me. God, I just wish there was something here.

"You don't look fine."

"Well, I will be," I swallow the lump in my throat, "I just...will go to bed and I'll be fine. Can't drink if I'm asleep." It doesn't even register to me at this point what I've said aloud.

"So, what your mom told mine was true?" Dwight asks me, regaining my attention. "You have a drinking problem?"

I puzzle my brows. "She said she didn't tell Caroline."

"Well, she did," Dwight says, "And for long?"

"A...a long time," I lick the tears from the corner of my mouth, "For thirteen years."

"Jesus," Dwight runs his hand over eyes, "Pippa...I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He puts his arms around me. "I'm sorry."

His apology just makes me cry more. I let him hold me, bringing my arms around him. His hand rubs my back as his cheek rests against my hair. We stand still for a good while. It feels nice to have him hold me again, even if it's just temporary. We only pull apart when the door to Jolyon's room creaks.

I look over my shoulder. It's just Pip. I glance back to Dwight and dry my eyes. "I guess you should go."

Dwight's gaze lowers. "Yeah."

 **...**

The phone rings. Once, twice, three times, four times. "Fucking hell," Negan gripes, "What time is it?"

"It's late," I tell him in a whisper, "I know I shouldn't have called you."

"You're goddamn right, you shouldn't have," He scoffs, talking low, "You almost woke my wife."

"I'm sorry," I softly apologize, "I just needed to talk to you for a minute."

"It couldn't fuckin' wait 'til morning?"

"No, it...it couldn't."

"What's wrong?"

"I, um," I put my hand on the wall, "I just was thinking that maybe you were right. Maybe I should think about going to one of those meetings."

"...Did you drink?"

"No, no, I'm dry, I just..."

"Feel like you need one?"

"Yeah," I sigh as quiet as possible, "I'm having a really hard time."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I'm just...knackered."

"Yeah, well, stay strong," Negan tells me, "Remember what you're doing it for. Who you're doing it for. Hell, remember how fucked you felt when you were detoxing. You really wanna go through that shit again?"

I shake my head, smiling. "No."

"Then stick to your guns."

"Okay," I bite my lip, "I will."

"Well, I'm glad you're finally letting go of your fuckin' pride to get better."

I snicker through my nose. "Will you go with me?"

"Most definitely," He assures me, "You name the date and time, within reason, get a sitter for the kid, and I'll drive you there myself."

I smile. "Thanks."

"Sure thing, darlin'."

I glance behind me at the toilet flushing. "Listen, I gotta go."

"Your kid's up at this hour, too?"

"Uh, yeah, he had to go to the bathroom."

Negan yawns. "Well, I'm gonna let you go, so I can fucking go back to sleep."

"Okay, thanks for picking up."

"Shit, I'm glad I did."

"Me, too."

"Alright, I'm hanging up."

"Okay."

"Night, Pippa."

"Night."

I smile down at my phone as his name still illuminates it. When it's gone, I turn back and pad into my bedroom.

"Was he asleep?"

I look over at Dwight, setting my phone down on my dresser. "Yeah, he was out like a light."

"Who were you on the phone with?" He asks, tugging back on his shirt.

"Oh, my sister," I walk towards the bed, "She was making sure I took my medication."

"At one in the morning?"

"Yeah, she and her husband went out and there was traffic, so they were just getting in."

Dwight nods.

I go over to him in my Lorelei's shirt and underwear. "You headin' home?"

His arms snakes around my lower back. "I probably should."

I smile, feeling his arm. "Alright."

He leans down a bit and plants his mouth on mine. "Alright."

"Are you gonna go?" I chuckle against his lips.

"Yeah," D's palm gently holds my cheek, "But Sherry's not gonna be home 'til tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

He kisses me. "Yeah...Maybe I could stay a little longer."

"I thought you said we were over?" My eyes search his face.

His fix on mine. "We are, but this is different and-"

"It won't happen again." I finish his sentence.

"Yeah," He nods his head, "It's just this last time."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah."

Dwight steps forward, which makes me smile and go backwards to the bed. He lightly shoves me onto the bed and I fall back. My smile hurts my cheeks, but I don't care. He climbs on top of me and smiles back at me as he looks down.

"I love you."

Dwight eases down against my skin, kissing my lips, while trying to keep himself up on one arm. "I love you, too, Pippa."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter! I know some of you may not be happy with the ending, but this is a drama after all :) Thanks for reading.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Content warning: mentions of miscarriage and infertility.**

* * *

"Stop it!" I smack Negan's hand. "God, you're such a pig."

"You made way more than what was fuckin' necessary."

"Well, this is a bake sale, not a soup kitchen, so fork over the nine dollars worth of baked good you've eaten."

"I can't believe we're fuckin' doing this in the first goddamn place," Negan chews, "The girls should be practicing, not selling cookies. This isn't the fucking girl scouts."

"Hey, there's more than just cookies being sold and this is to raise money for the players whose families can't afford uniforms. It's better than sending a bunch of teenage girls to go door to door selling candy bars to strangers."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Negan sighs, "Why don't you sit here and I'll go have 'em run drills?"

"It's not a scheduled practice day."

"And your point is?"

"My point is stop bitching and be more supportive of your players."

"I am supportive," Negan rolls his eyes, "How the fuck do you think they got uniforms every other year?"

I look over at him. "...You?"

"There's only like four players every year who can't afford the uniforms, it's not that big of a deal."

"The uniforms are like seventy bucks a pop."

"So?"

"You make a teacher's salary," I chuckle, "Where do you get off shelling out that kind of money?"

"Well, the school only will compt uniforms to football players, because it's our biggest sport, but all my ball players have to have uniforms in order to play."

I smile. "So, you buy their uniforms?"

"Lucille doesn't mind, it's the only thing she likes about me."

"Well, now I get it," I laugh, "That's very sweet of you."

"It's not sweet, the players have to have uniforms. It's a necessity."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon calls a few yards out in the field.

"Alright!" Negan picks up the baseball in his glove and throw it towards him.

"God, don't throw it so hard!" I complain. "You're gonna end nailing him."

"Calm your tits, I am not," Negan chuckles, "I'm just giving him something to chase to tire him out for you. You're welcome."

Jolyon holds up his glove with the baseball, which he just put in there after finally catching up to it. "Look, Mom, I got it!"

"Good job, Jol!" I smile, glancing at Negan. "You still owe me nine dollars."

"All I have is twenty."

"We accept twenties."

"What you're not gonna fucking give me change?"

"We haven't made a sale yet, I don't have change."

"So, I'm paying twenty bucks for nine dollars worth of pastries?"

"Consider the rest to be a generous donation."

Negan laughs, reaching into his back pocket. "You fuckin' chiseler."

"I throwed it back!" Jolyon yells.

"Hold your horses!" Negan replies, handing me his twenty. "I'm getting robbed by your mom."

"It was my pleasure."

Negan walks a few feet to grab the ball that Jolyon had to keep throwing until that point, because the ball kept falling short. "Alright, you ready?"

"Yes!"

He tosses the ball, noticeably softer. "You see how perfect my form was?"

I arch my brow. "Am I supposed to be aroused?"

"Should be."

"Hm," I look down at my phone on the table, but choose to ignore it, "Well, keep trying, sport."

"Who are you ignoring?"

"What?"

"You didn't pick up your phone."

I briefly glance at the softball players, both JV and varsity in the distance that are either approaching us, or holding up signs to draw people in. "Just my mom."

"What'd mom do to piss you off?"

"She told someone about my problem and then lied about it."

"Ah, and so your giving her the silent treatment?"

"Mind your own business."

"Can't help it," He chuckles, "I like poking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Yeah, the same goes for your dick."

"That type of accurate language is not acceptable on this campus, Assistant Coach Barnes." He retorts.

"Assistant Coach?" I smirk at him. "Baby, I'm the head coach."

"Bullshit."

I cackle. "No, Avery told me that since he already promised the coaching position to me, but then I ended up having to share with you, because you threw a fit; that I could be the head coach."

"Avery never said shit to me about it."

"I told him I'd tell you. Plus, didn't you read what was in those packets we gave the girls to fill out at home?"

He scoff. "Uh, yeah I fucking did. Aside from all the legal and medical forms, I write out all the code of conduct and sportsmanship shit."

"Well, the other day when you told me to put the packets together, like I was your goddamn secretary, I took the liberty of transferring the title of head coach over to me."

Negan squints at me. "You lying minx."

I get into my purse and pull out the main introduction sheet. "Read it and weep, motherfucker."

Negan snatches the paper from me, scanning his eyes down to the bottom. His furrow deepens. "You sneaky little fucker!"

The girls that volunteered to run the bake sale stop in their tracks.

I stifle a laugh. "Coach, that type of accurate language is unacceptable on this campus. Do right to watch your mouth, please."

His eyes flicker up at mine.

I grin wide. "I moved your name, your new title, and signature under mine."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon shouts.

"Yeah, Negan, throw it." I snicker, before turning to the girls. "Alright, so I assume you all know how to make change?"

"Yes." They all say in near unison.

"Cool, so we've got about two hours and it's hot, so make sure you put on the sunscreen on the table."

When the girls sit down at the table, I shift back to Negan and Jolyon. Negan's waiting for Jol to throw the ball back close enough to get it.

"Your kid throws with his left hand."

"So?"

"He's right-handed," Negan scoffs, "I've seen him hold a crayon. Poorly, I might add, but I've seen it."

"He's four, he's learning," I chuckle, "And his glove's on his right hand."

"Wow, and you're head coach? You throw with your dominant hand and catch with your other hand."

"I know, but he doesn't. Go teach him," I smirk, "And that's an order, Assistant Coach."

"You know, if I wasn't so turned on by your underhandedness, I'd tell you to fuck off."

"Oh, but then who would visit you at lunch tomorrow?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I rubbed one out in my office." Negan walks forward, signaling for Jolyon to meet him halfway.

"That's gross." I sigh, checking behind me to make sure the girls aren't within earshot.

I then watch Negan put Jolyon's glove on his left hand, giving him a few inaudible pointers. I smile as he walks back my way. "Maybe I am a little aroused."

"Well, mop it up, baby, because we're here for another two hours and Lu wants me home right after."

"How come?"

"Because she invited our neighbors over for dinner."

"You're having a party on a Tuesday?"

"No, dipshit, it's just one couple and their son," He throws the ball, "Lucille and Joan graduated together."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah, but I always get reamed by Lucille, for being to 'hard' on the kid."

"Does he play a sport here?"

"No," Negan shakes his head, "He goes to some punk ass private school."

"Then...what are you doing to get yelled at?"

"We've got a ping pong table in the garage and we play every time he comes over."

"And there's no such thing as being too competitive at something as silly as ping pong?" I grin.

"Hey, I don't let your four year old beat me, why the fuck am I gonna go easy on a sixteen year old?" Negan pitches. "The kid can't take a little fun hassling."

I shake my head, laughing. "You're such a dick."

"Coach Barnes, I think your phone's ringing?"

I look over my shoulder. "Okay, thank you."

"You gonna go answer it?"

"No, it's just my mom again."

"Jesus, Pip, are you really gonna leave her in the woods over something stupid?"

"It wasn't stupid," I retort, "I asked her not to tell anyone and she did. And that person was my ex-boyfriend's mother and she told him."

Negan glances over. "So?"

I fold my arms. "I didn't want him to know."

"Why the fuck does it matter if he knows or not?"

"Because it's embarrassing, that's why."

"Don't let it get to you. You've got nothing to be ashamed of, you're getting clean."

"Well, I bet you wouldn't have such a cavalier attitude if it was your business being gossiped about."

"Nah, I don't give a shit."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

I scoff. "Well, then I guess it won't bother you to know that Lourdes told me and Simon about you getting caught by Lucille, cheating with Lourdes."

Negan turns his head. "What?"

"She told me that Lucille left you for a few days and you begged her to come back."

He looks down. "Lourdes shouldn't have fuckin' called me at home."

"Oh, so it's Lourdes' fault you got caught?" I raise my brow in disbelief. "Not the fact that you were sneaking around behind your wife's back with a woman who you lied to me about when you said she was nothing."

"She is nothing."

"You told her you loved her."

Negan chuckles, devilishly. "I said a lot of things to Lourdes, that I didn't fuckin' mean." He looks me over. "She's not the only one."

I scoff at him. "Wow, okay." I put my hands on my hips. "Are you talking about me, or Lucille?"

"Fuck you."

"Says the guy who doesn't give a shit what people know about him."

"You know, what crawled up your ass?" He snaps. "Lour told you what I said to get in her bed and now you're fuckin' jealous I didn't say it to you?"

"Oh, please, I'm not jealous!" I snort. "Why the fuck would I want to be swept under by your lies like her, or your wife?"

"Why don't you go home, if you're gonna be a bitch at the bake sale?"

"Why don't you go home to your wife and help her with dinner?"

"What kind of fuckin' comeback is that?" Negan laughs at me. "At least, I've got someone to go home to."

"Throw it, Negan!" Jolyon calls, impatiently.

I look out at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't have a husband or boyfriend, but at least I have kid to go home to, instead of having to borrow everyone else's, or throw myself into after school athletics."

Negan halts just before he throws the ball. His furrowed eyes look at me, gutted. Like I just ripped him open at the belly and he's still trying to register what happened as the guts fall out.

Staring back at him, I shortly realize that I've fucked up. I lose my angry expression slowly, almost embarrassed at the ass I think I just made of myself.

"Throw the ball!" Jolyon hollers.

Negan blinks back to him and thinks for a minute, sucker-punched. He hurls the ball Jolyon's way and then turns around and walks.

"Negan, wait."

"Have fun with your stupid fucking bake sale." He stalks off towards the parking lot.

"I'm sorry!"

"Blow it out your ass!"

The girls at the booth, as well as the student customers look over at his explosive explicative. They watch him go, before looking back to me.

I half-heartedly smile, because that's all I can do.

"Hey, where's he going?" Jolyon asks, running up with the ball.

"He had to go home, baby."

"Aw!" Jolyon whimpers. "It's gonna be no fun without him!"

I muss his curls, before hugging him to the side of me, as my eyes stay fixed on Negan growing farther and farther away.

 **...**

 _The monitor beeps at the rate of my heart. It's annoying and it makes it hard to truly sleep, which is all I want right now. I feel so drained of everything and it all hurts. My body aches, there's a dull pounding in my head, and to breathe is to be in pain. The morphine drip helps a little, but it can't take away the anguish inside me. When I finally open my lead eyelids from momentarily resting them, the room is dark and cold, because of the hour and the stupid fucking A/C._

 _I lick my chapped lips, running my tongue over the split on my upper lip._

 _"Want some water?"_

 _"Yes, please." I rasp, already tearing up._

 _"Okay," D gets up from the chair and pours me some water from the plastic hospital pitcher into the cup, "Here."_

 _Despite feeling demolished, I gulp down the water with might. "Thanks."_

 _I bleakly glance at all the flowers, teddy bears, and get well soon balloons from all my friends, classmates, and family. My mom brought me all my favorite foods to get me to eat, but I can't. I've tried, but everything I bring something up to my mouth...I just can't._

 _"Where's my mom and dad?"_

 _"They're out in the hall with the doctor," Dwight tells me, "Want me to go get 'em?"_

 _I nod my head. "Yes." I barely croak._

 _He walks over to the door and opens it, peering his head out. "Pippa's awake."_

 _"Okay, we'll be in a second." My mom lets him know._

 _"Okay." He closes the door. "Your mom said-"_

 _"I heard her," I wipe the tear that slithered down to my ear, "Are they mad at me?"_

 _"What? No, why would they be mad at you?"_

 _"Because I didn't tell them," More tears blur my vision, until I blink them out, "Because they had to find out like this."_

 _D sits down in the chair by my bed. "They're not mad, Pip."_

 _I inspect his wrecked face. The cuts and scrapes, especially the cut across the bridge of his bruised nose and the cut above his right eye that's got four stitches. "How's your face?"_

 _"I'm fine, don't worry about me," He itches above the sutures, "Worry about yourself."_

 _"How can I not worry about you?"_

 _"Because I walked away with nothing," D scoffs, "You've got a concussion, a two fractured ribs, and you..." He trails off and closes his mouth._

 _I look away from him, silently sobbing. "Who knows? At school, I mean?"_

 _"Nobody," He answers, "They just know about the accident."_

 _I nod. "Do you...do you still love me?"_

 _"What?" Dwight stares at me, incredulous. "Of course, I do. Why would I stop?"_

 _"I...I don't know."_

 _"Well, I love you, Pippa," He puts his hand on mine, "And nothing's gonna change that."_

 _My face scrunches. "You promise?"_

 _"Yes," His grip tightens as his voice cracks, "I promise."_

He kisses me lovingly on the lips. I comb my fingers through his blonde hair, smiling as he softly groans as he eases into me once more, before climbing off me. Dwight pulls my sheets up to his waist as he sits up against the headboard.

I roll over the other way to take my medicine since it's time. "I thought this wasn't gonna happen again?"

"It wasn't supposed to," Dwight answers behind me, "I didn't mean for it to happen."

I shake out a pill from the orange tube. "So, then why did you call me at eight-thirty at night and show up at my door?"

"I wanted to give you the knife...and I was out anyway."

I look at the little Swiss army knife over on my dresser. It's mine, from when we were nine and his grandpa took us camping. He had bought us each one and carved our initials into the side when we kept getting them mixed up and argued. D found it at his mom's house and wanted to give it back to me. It was one of the things I gave her to give to him when our relationship ended all those years ago.

"Where were you?"

"What?"

"Where were you, if you weren't home?"

"I don't know. Just out."

I snicker, downing the pill with some water. "Is there another woman?"

"Shut up," He scoffs, "No, I just was getting out of the house for a little while."

"How come?"

"Sherry and I got into again."

"Oh," I close my drawer, "So, you were driving around, until you found an excuse to come over here."

"No, I was going to bring it over anyway."

"At night?"

"I thought you might want to have it," He shrugs, "I've had it in my glove compartment for three weeks. I forgot I had it until now."

"Why would I want an old pocket knife from when I was nine?" I bring my shirt over my head. "It's just a knife, nothing special."

"Then why'd you tell my mom you couldn't keep it when you brought back all that stuff?"

I search for my underwear under the covers. "Because I was a heartbroken teenager."

"Right," Dwight runs his hand through his hair, "Look, I thought you could give it to Jolyon when he's older."

"Well...well, actually that does seem like something he'd like."

"Here." He hands me my underwear.

I take them, irritated. "If you want a booty call, you're gonna have to start paying, or go look somewhere else."

"It's not like that, Pippa."

"Really?" I look at him. "You fight with your wife and you wind up here? The sex 'just happened'?"

"Well, you didn't have to invite me in."

"I made cookies for a bake sale at my work," I grumble, "I made way too much and offered you a few...to take home."

"Well, you could've kicked me out when I kissed you."

I sigh through my nose. "Well, it's never too late."

D gets out of my bed. "Alright, message received."

I tap my finger on my thigh. "Maybe this is why you're having a rough patch."

"What?" He looks over at me.

"You said that you and her were having a rough patch," I shrug, "Maybe if you quit with this, your marriage would be okay."

He huffs. "Thanks for the marriage counseling."

"Well..."

"I haven't seen you in weeks," Dwight zips up his pants, "You're not the only problem."

"Me?" I chuckle bitterly. "Oh, no, you're not gonna label me as one of your marital problems. I'm not taking blame for your choices."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. I meant, that us being on the rocks is more than sneaking around with you."

"Your marriage was fine before then," I scratch my nose "I remember that cute little anniversary party."

"Yeah, well..."

"Well, what?"

Dwight glances at me. "I gotta head home."

 **...**

I knock on his office door. "Knock, knock!"

"Fuck off."

I chew the side of my lip, holding a pizza box in one hand. "Open up."

"Fuck. Off." Negan re-clarifies.

"I come bearing gifts."

He huffs inside. "Your pussy's more of a fuckin' curse."

I try not to snicker. "That's not what I meant, but just so you know, I wear that with honor." I wait for some students to pass. "I was talking about something better."

"Well, then, there are some things you can't fuckin' blow and make better."

"...I'm not gonna suck your dick," I roll my eyes, "I'm talking about pizza."

"I don't want it, so fucking beat it."

"Half of it's combination," I attempt to entice, "With stuffed crust."

"I fucking hate stuffed crust."

I knit my brows. Fucking hates stuffed crust? "Well, I'll eat your crusts then, you freak of nature."

"Pippa, I said fuck off," He groans, "Why don't you fuckin' go share it with her bosom buddy, Lourdes?"

"She went home for lunch."

"Well, then I guess you're shit out of luck."

"...So, you're not gonna open the door?" I reach into my pocket.

"Now you're fuckin' getting it."

"Not even to accept my offer of peace?"

"Nope, so go to hell."

"Uh-huh." I slide the key into the lock and turn it until I hear the click.

"What the fuck?"

I open the door. "This pizza's hot as balls," I drop it down on his desk, "It was starting to burn my arm."

"How the fuck did you get a key to my office?" He stares at me with an angry furrow.

"You left your clipboard at the booth," I open the pizza box, "There's a key taped on the inside of the part that opens."

"So, you fuckin' stole it?"

"I needed it to get into your office to return your clipboard to you," I grab a slice of plain cheese and one of those parmesan packets, "I had Jol with me, so I forgot to put the key back."

He bitterly looks me over. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I sit down in the chair on the other side of his desk. "Giving you a taste of your own medicine," I rip open the packet; "I figured I'd take a page from your book and just waltz in, uninvited."

"Yeah, well, I'm not looking to joke around with you, asshole, so don't let the door hit you in the ass."

I look at him. "I would've thought you'd want the door to hit me."

Negan exhales, jaded as fuck. "What do you really want, Pippa?"

"Practice is today."

"And?"

I bite into my pizza. "Are you coming?"

"Can't handle it yourself, Head Coach?"

I smirk. "That's kind of hot, you calling me 'Head Coach'. Sounds like the beginning to some pretty steamy foreplay."

"So, that's it, huh?" Negan scoffs. "Absence has your pussy throbbing?"

I put my hand over my mouth as I swallow. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

He tilts his head back, exhausted. "Come on, Pip, why are you fuckin' with me? Just get the fuck out."

I look down. "I...I just wanted to come by to say that I'm sorry about the other day."

"Right."

"I am sorry," I insist, glancing up to meet his scowling eyes, "I crossed a line and I'm sorry."

Negan observes me for a minute, before reaching into the pizza box. "Yeah, well, I take your apology and fuckin' shove it up your perfectly round ass."

I knit my brows. "What?"

"I don't want your fucking apology, Pippa."

"But, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," Negan stares daggers at me, "You think I don't know what's up? That I don't have you fuckin' pegged by now?"

"...What are you talking about?"

"You and that old flame of yours fuckin' fucked again, did you?"

I stare, mouth slightly open.

He grins as he scoffs. "That's what I fuckin' thought."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" He chuckles. "You're a bitch whenever you've been with him and he pulled you through a loop. So, what? He came on over got his rocks off and then left you with a bad taste in your mouth?"

I grimace. "I just came to apologize."

"That wasn't Jolyon who I heard flushing the toilet last Friday night, was it?"

"...No."

"Yeah," Negan leans back, putting his feet up on his desk, "Wish I could say that I'm sorry you got used, but I'm fuckin' not. No tear on my cheek, if you don't learn a fucking lesson."

"It was different."

"I'm sure."

I take a deep breath. "You know what? I didn't come here because I wanted you to fuck me. I came here because I'm sorry for what I said." I stand up. "Look, I can't do anymore than that. The rest is on you, so hold onto the anger, if you want." I start to walk towards the door with my pizza crust in hand. "You can have the fucking pizza."

He scoffs. "Thanks."

I stop just before I open the door. Another deep breath rises in my chest.

"You push down on the handle and pull the door towards you." He rudely instructs.

I bite my lip, knowing that if I leave now, I won't be satisfied with myself.

"Any fuckin' time would be great."

"Lucille can't have kids, can she?"

Silence.

I count to three in my head, before I turn around. Our eyes lock instantly. Negan's still scowling, like he had the other day, but he's also quiet...like the other day. Just before the storm.

I wring my hands. "I kept wondering why you and her didn't have any kids, when you both apparently like kids. I mean, you and her are so good with Jolyon and..." I shrug, "It wasn't until Tuesday that I put two and two together."

Negan glances down and turns his head forward.

"Or...is it you?"

He huffs under his breath. "If I was shooting blanks, why the fuck would I use condoms?"

"Safe sex."

He drops his pizza slice down on top of the box. "Point taken."

I step forward. "So...she can't then?"

"Pippa," Negan pinches the bridge of his nose, "Just drop it."

"O-okay," I nod my head, "I'm sorry, I just...I'll go, I'll leave you alone."

He sighs, frustrated. "She had preterm labor."

I refrain from leaving, gazing at him as I wait for him to go on.

Negan appears to be focusing on the large window of his office, despite the blinds being drawn. "Her body would go into labor too early in the pregnancy."

"Oh."

He bites his lip. "Her doctor told her that if she could make it to fifteen weeks, she could put a cervical cerclage in that would make sure she'd be able to carry until she was close enough to her due date, but she never made it that far." Negan swallows. "Every time she'd get pregnant, she was so hopeful and confident that _this_ time was gonna be _it_ ; she was gonna make it fifteen weeks and then she'd get the cerclage and everything would be just dandy. But come twelve, thirteen weeks, she'd wake up in pain and we'd have to go to the hospital."

I hold in tears as I just listen.

"After so many miscarriages, she just couldn't do it anymore," As he swallows again, I see the expression that flashes on his face, "It, uh, took a toll on her, physically and emotionally, so we just decided to throw in the towel."

"What about adoption?"

"We talked about it, but we both buried ourselves in our work and it just never happened."

I sit down in the chair. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity, Pippa."

"I'm not pitying you," I roll my misty eyes, "I just feel like such an asshole."

"You are an asshole."

I chuckle. "I know."

A light, small smile forms on his face as he looks at me. "Well, I guess, if you're aware of that, I should accept your apology, right?"

"If you want to."

He inhales and exhales. "Alright, fine, all's forgiven."

I smile. "I really am sorry."

"Stop apologizing, I just fuckin' said I forgave you."

I nod my head. "Who else knows?"

"Her parents, obviously," Negan clears his throat, "Aside from them? A few people she worked with when she was at the schools."

"You never told Lourdes?"

"Why would I?"

I shrug. "I don't know, I know Lourdes and you were closer than you admit, I just thought maybe-"

"Lucille isn't pillow talk, Pip, I don't fuckin' make it a habit to talk about her in the throes of pussy. She's not just some woman I hooked up with, she's my wife."

"Yeah..." I open the pizza box for another slice. "Well, let's put it all under the bridge and move on, eh?"

"Deal," Negan agrees, "So, what's eating you?"

"Heartburn," I chew with smile, "All those years of hard livin' are finally catching up to me."

"Heartburn's the least of your problems," He chuckles, "What's really eatin' you?"

I look at him. "Nothing."

"Bullshit, Pippa, you and I are not the kind of people who do a little good without wantin' some type of gratification."

I see that he's perfectly astute. Did I really come here for an ulterior reason? I didn't think I was.

"What's wrong? You relapse?"

"No, I didn't relapse."

"Huh, I thought maybe you're bitchiness the other day had to do with a little more than that guy."

I glance down at my pizza. "You were right, he was just using me."

"He came over again last night, didn't he?"

"Yeah," I take another bite, "He got into an argument with his wife and he..." I shrug my shoulders again. "I can't believe I let that happen; but I told myself it was different, because of the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Negan scoffs, not knowing. "Did he lie and say he'd leave his wife for you?"

"No, he'd never do that," I scowl at him, "But you can shut the fuck up either way."

He snickers through his nose. "What then?"

"...It was an anniversary."

"Ah, of when you broke up?" He lightly teases.

"No," I huff, knitting my brows at him, "Something worse."

"What?"

"Negan." I sigh, anxiously soothing my arm.

His eyes traipse over me. "You gettin' that itch?"

"Yes."

"There's a six o'clock meeting in Barton tonight."

My eyes blink up to meet his.

 **...**

The building is made of brick like most older buildings. It's still light out, but the weather's cooled down some. People from all walks of life straggle through the two glass doors.

"Keep that fuckin' cigarette out the window."

"I am." I take another drag as I stare at the building.

"It's five-fifty," Negan looks at the clock on the radio, "You gonna go in?"

"Yes, just give me a minute."

"If you fuckin' wait any longer, you're not gonna have a seat."

I take a deep breath, "Alright, alright." I open the car door. I get one last drag in, before I drop the cigarette and step on it. I puzzle my brows when I hear a car door slam behind me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going in with you." Negan sticks his phone in a back pocket.

"You don't have to do that," I tell him, "I'm a big girl."

"Actually, I think I do," He smirks, "You think I was fuckin' born yesterday?"

"Excuse me?"

"How the fuck do I know you'll actually fuckin' go if I let you go on your own?"

"Uh, because I said I was going to."

"You mean your word?"

"Yes."

"Well, no offense, but your word doesn't mean jack shit," He laughs, "For all I know, you'd go inside and spend the hour in the bathroom, or in a pottery class."

"I could make you nice bowl for your balls for when the in-laws come."

Negan flips me the bird, then uses it to point towards the building . "Get your ass inside."

I hold the strap of my purse. "I don't know about this."

"It'll be fine."

"I don't belong here, Negan."

"Yeah, you do," He puts a hand on my shoulder, "Come on."

I sigh. "Alright."

We go in together and turn down the right hall towards the door that has the number that Negan looked up. When I see all the people inside, sitting someplace between the two layers of the circles, I hesitate. Luckily, this asshole just opens the door for me.

We go in and I shyly smile at anyone who makes eye contact with me, as I find a place to sit. I have a seat in a chair on the inner circle, because Negan sat in the last one on the outer circle, so I wouldn't have the chance. His chair's directly behind mine and it makes me uneasy. I sort of thought he'd sit beside me. I fiddle with the strap of my purse.

A man clears his throat. "Alright, let's get started," He says, apparently the conductor of this meeting, "Who'd like to start us off?"

Someone's hand raises, a woman who likes a soccer mom in her yellow knit sweater. "Hi, my name is Heather and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Heather." The rest of the room says, Negan included.

The meeting goes on like this, people raising their hands, introducing themselves, and then sharing. Some of them have been sober a long time, some only a few days. A few people confide that they've fallen off the wagon. I sit in silence as I listen to all the heart-wrenching stories of lives ruined, or saved. Injuries sustained from hitting rock bottom, or salvation found after hitting rock bottom and falling through. I'm relieved when some of the shares are mild.

Not all who share cry, some only get choked up, or are able to keep it together. Not even the person in charge says anything, except to thank an alcoholic for sharing and asking who'd like to go next. I guess that's maybe the point; not judging, just listening. God, Negan must be having a hell of time with some of these, being the know-it-all that he is.

I can't help but to glance up to at the clock every couple minutes. It's the longest hour I've ever had to sit through. And the worst part about it is that I...relate to these people. There's been far too many times where the inside of me recoils as I think; _"Oh, god, I'm an alcoholic."_ Far too many stories and experiences that are near identical to mine.

The guy in charge offers this crying biker a tissue from a box. "Thank you for sharing," He tells the man, "Alright, we've got time for one more."

I wait to see who'll raise their hand, but no one does. Suddenly, my chair moves forward, causing an abrupt screech. I look over my shoulder and glare at Negan with his arms crossed. "What are you doing?" I mouth.

"Ma'am?"

I turn my head forward.

"Would you like to share?"

"Oh, no, I'm okay."

"Don't be shy," Negan says casually, as if he's just another anonymous drunk in this meeting, "You're in a safe place."

I glance behind me again, giving him a 'fuck you' kind of look. When I shift back around, the eyes are still on me.

"You don't have to share, if you aren't ready." The man tells me.

I take a deep breath, running my sweaty hands on my jeans. "H-hi, my name is Pippa and I'm...an alcoholic." That goes down harder than I imagined.

"Hi, Pippa."

I blandly smile, wringing my fingers. "Um, I've been sober for almost a month now. I just found out I have early signs of cirrhosis and I'm only thirty-one. I'll be thirty-two in May, so...I guess I've made some really bad choices in my life that got me here." I inhale choppily. "I've been drinking since I was eighteen, so about thirteen years."

I gaze off to some unknown point in the room as everything starts to rise up like bile. "I started drinking when I was eighteen, after I went off to Texas for college. Everyone was getting drunk at parties to have fun and I was getting drunk to forget. I kept chasing the bottle thinking one day I'd catch up, but I guess that's all an illusion."

I sniff. "You see, I was with this guy I had known since I was in kindergarten, "I chuckle, "We were inseparable as kids; he was my best friend. We started dating in high school and he was the first person I fell in love with. Used to be the only guy I ever thought I would love. "

The man offers a tissue. "Thank you," I accept with a smile, "Anyway, we thought we'd be together in the happily ever after, but it didn't turn out that way." I dry my eyes. "Our senior year of high school, we went to the prom together. It was at this hotel that offered discounted rooms for the students who stayed there. We both told our parents that we were staying in room with friends, but then we snuck to our own room to be together. It was the first time we had ever had sex and we were so nervous and awkward, it was kind of sweet. The next morning, I remember thinking he was the only one for me. That there was no one else."

I ball the tissue in my hand. "I found out I was pregnant about a month later. I passed him a note in class and then after school, he drove me to the pharmacy for a test. Pink plus," I chuckle again with teary eyes, "Yep, I'm the girl that got pregnant on prom night. I remember thinking that I was doomed. That my parents would kill me and bury me in the woods behind our house. I thought he'd leave me and I would have to work the rest of my life at this diner I worked at, because what college would allow a baby in a dorm?"

My throat aches, but I manage to go on. "But when the test came up positive in the bathroom of his mom's house, he...he," I shut my eyes as tears roll down my face and my voice begins to tremble, "He said he loved me, and that he wanted to marry me, and that everything would be okay. We'd move to Austin like we planned and he'd enlist in the Army and we'd live on a base and I could go to school and...nothing had to change, the future we planned out by the river since we were sixteen, didn't have to disappear, it only had to adjust a little for the baby."

I glance at the crumpled tissue in my hand, dripping a tear into my hand. "I was seven weeks and two days pregnant when he finally convinced me that we had to tell our parents. We decided to tell his mom first since she would be home from work sooner than mine. And, uh," I lick the salty pool at the corner of my mouth, "We were driving to his house right after school, when a SUV ran their stop sign and t-boned us off the road. D's truck rolled down a hill until a tree stopped us at the bottom. He had some bad facial injures, some nasty bruises, but he was able to crawl out of the truck. The guy that hit us took off and so luckily there were some houses not far that called 9-1-1."

"When I came to, I was groggy and my seatbelt wouldn't come undone," My inhale through my nose, "And I just heard him calling for help and I was crying, because I couldn't get out and I felt a really bad pain." I lip quivers a little as I struggle to hold it together. "I told the paramedic that I was pregnant and something was wrong..."

I close my eyes again at the dark memory of me strapped down to that table with a hard yellow brace around my neck. How calm and urgent the paramedic's voice was when he told his partner I was bleeding.

"I miscarried in the hospital before my parents arrived," I open my eyes, "I had two fractured ribs, a concussion, and the doctors told my parents that my body suffered a lot of trauma and I lost the baby because of it."

I sniff. "My boyfriend and I tried to stay together after that, but it was too painful. We were young and ill equipped to handle that sort of tragedy. We called it quits before graduation. I went to college and he got married. And I drank myself to liver damage and have never had a decent relationship with another man since."

Tears form back up like the sons of bitches they are. "I have a four year old son with a man who I drunkenly slept with after knowing him for four hours and...I bullied him into letting me have sole custody, because I can be really sharp and caustic when I'm drunk and he's an oddball pushover. And I've lied and told people that he gave up his parental rights, because he couldn't handle fatherhood, but the truth is, I'm just ashamed of the awful thing I did." I can't stop chuckling, "But not enough to make it right."

The group looks at me, but I don't get the sense that I'm been horribly judged.

"I wish I could say that I feel like a good person, but I can't. I heard that alcohol lowers your inhibitions and, Jesus, did I just run when the gates were down. I've hurt people with my words and my actions, I've spent the day in bed with a hangover while my son played in the living room, I've drug him out in the cold in the middle of the night for a drink..." I sob a little abruptly, "I've been having an affair with my ex-boyfriend and my co-worker, who's also married and...I've used them just as much as they've used me."

I have a deep, cathartic breath. "But, I'm ready to stay clean and do better, because I deserve to be happy and my son deserves to be happy and if I don't, he could grow up without me, or at least not have as long with me." I look at the clock that read five past six. "That's all I've got, thank you."

The group golf claps and the leader offers me another tissue. He thanks me for sharing and then concludes the meeting. Some of the members stay for coffee, cookies, and a few minutes of talking. I just pick up my purse and leave the room in the recreation center.

I walk out to Negan's car and I know he's not right behind me, but maybe a few paces back. His car's locked, so I light up a cigarette beside it as I wait. He emerges from the building shortly after my first drag. He doesn't look at me until he's close.

"You didn't grab some coffee for the road?" I exhale.

"No," Negan fishes his keys from his pocket; "You wanna grab something to eat, before I take you home?"

"Sure."

He nods, inspecting his keys. "Okay."

 **...**

The waitress brings over our water and coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"No problem, Pip." She smiles.

I smile back, until she leaves and I have to look at Negan across from me. "You're quiet."

"Yeah..."

"Are you mad, or...disgusted?"

"Why would I be either?"

I shrug. "Because of what I said back at the meeting."

Negan looks up from his coffee. "You said Jol's dad gave up his parental rights. That he was a deadbeat."

"No," I shake my head, "I never called him a deadbeat. I said he was flaky, but I didn't say deadbeat."

His tongue pokes his cheek. "Is he a bad father?"

"No, he's not," I answer truthfully, "He's a good person, he's just...awkward. Doesn't really know how to respond to people socially, but he's sweet in his own way. I was the one who said I could handle things on my own and didn't need him. When he wanted to be there for Jolyon, I agreed, but I wasn't gonna build a life with him. We were practical strangers. I made him wait out in the waiting room when Jolyon was born, because I couldn't stand the thought of this weirdo standing in perfect view of my baby cannon. In hindsight, I could've let him stand near me, where he couldn't see, but I don't think he actually minded all that much."

"Why'd you make him agree to sole custody?"

"Because I was selfish and shitty," I sigh, "I didn't want his help, I was too prideful for no reason. He was...not very good with Jolyon at first. It's like Jol was an alien from another planet and he didn't know what do with him. I had to teach him how to hold him properly and how to feed him and change diapers. I didn't trust him to watch Jolyon overnight, or for more than two hours alone, just because I was afraid his brain would go haywire and he'd malfunction." I snicker at the some memory. "Eugene was just a new parent, who already had no social skills, and I was too hard on him."

Negan stares. "Why the hell didn't he fight you?"

"Because Eugene's not like you and I, Negan," I stir the spoon in my cup, "He's not a fighter, he's cowers in the face of confrontation. And God knows the devil doesn't have half the fury that I do. Eugene never stood a chance. I told him that Jolyon was better off with me, because I was more responsible, I knew what I was doing, and that was I better suited than he was to take care of a child. I didn't live in a studio apartment, spending my weekends playing old video games, because I didn't have any friends."

"Damn," Negan scoffs, "That's cold and brazen coming from a drunk."

"Believe it or not, my drinking's toned down compared to what it was like before I had Jolyon," I briefly glance out the window, "I technically wasn't supposed to be driving in the state of Texas."

He chuckles under his breath, before growing serious again. "You never said the reason you were so hooked on that old boyfriend was because you miscarried his kid when you were a kid yourself."

"You didn't tell me about Lucille."

"You didn't fuckin' ask."

"Right, like you would've told me, if I hadn't thrown you off this afternoon."

"Maybe not, but you never asked. I asked about this 'D' asshole dozens of times."

"Well, I...don't talk about it. Like...ever," I rest my cheek on my fist, "It's something that my family doesn't even mention, because they know it upsets me."

Negan's eyes gently look me over. "That's why you were so distraught when he told you him and his wife were gonna try to have a baby. You said you'd be nothing to him anymore."

"It was the one thing I had of him that she didn't, even if I lost it," I lick my lips, "Pretty shitty, huh?"

"You slept with him because it's that time of year? When you lost the baby?"

"Yeah."

Negan exhales. "Well, you're not nothing, Pippa, and so what if you're nothing to him? You're someone to somebody."

I smile, peering up. "Jolyon?"

"That little boy thinks you're the reason the sun fuckin' rises every morning."

"Thanks," I sip from my mug, "You're a good pep-talker."

"I mean it, Pip," He insists, fixed on my eyes, "You're not nothing."

I look back at him, stunned by his words."Okay."

He smiles back, before his phone pings in his pocket. "It's probably Lu."

"Answer it."

Negan gets his phone out. "It's a text. She wants to know if I'm on my way home."

I twist my mouth to the side. "Guess you better hit the road."

"Yeah." He signals the waitress over for the check.

"Thanks for going with me."

"No problem," Negan smiles, "I'm proud of you."

I'm not nothing. My smile grows. "Thanks."

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! You all are awesome and give such amazing support. Hope you all enjoyed this week's chapter. I hope it wasn't too emotional, given the subject content.**


	38. Chapter 38

Today's the last day before spring break and I couldn't be more on edge if I tried. There's so much to do before I go to D.C., including getting Jolyon ready to go spend the next four days with his father in Houston.

I've barely been paying attention to the group projects that I had my juniors do for Am Lit. So long as my ears don't pick up on anything inaccurate or off topic, I'm satisfied for the moment. I'll look at their posters and/or dioramas in detail later.

By the end of the day, I'm itching to get out of here, but I'm behind on grading since my hospital stay and so I have to at least be here another hour and a half. Lourdes is also staying, so she offered to go pick up Jolyon for me. I didn't have the heart to tell her that he'll probably want to hangout with Negan at baseball practice. Ever since Negan gave him that baseball and glove for his birthday, he's been eager to come to my work after school. The baseball and glove either stay in the Jeep, or in Jolyon's backpack at all times upon his insistence.

I also don't know how to tell Lourdes that Negan's coming along on the trip to D.C. He told me on the way back to my house after the AA meeting last Thursday. He took me again last night, which was better than last time, considering I didn't cry in front of a room full of strangers. I honestly don't know where that came from. Never would I ever have believed that I would spill out the darkest parts of my heart. The ugliness that has happened to me, or else that I have done to myself or others, that has plagued me for so long.

"Here he is!" Lourdes sings as she opens the door of my classroom.

"Hi, Mom!" Jolyon runs over.

"Hey, Jol!" I smile. "How was your day?"

"We got caterpillars at school today," He excitedly tells me, "They're gonna turn into crystals and then into butterflies!"

I chuckle. "I think you mean chrysalis, babe."

"Yeah. They're gonna eat a lot of leaves, but not cupcakes like in the book."

"That's so cool," I muss his curls, "I'm so excited for you."

"Where's Negan?" He inquires.

"He's out in the baseball fields."

"Can I go?"

"Aw, you don't want to hang with me?" Lourdes playfully pouts.

"Do you know how to play catch?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

Jolyon thinks about it. "But Negan is really good at it."

"Well, I...have candy in my desk." Lourdes bribes.

He looks over at me. "Can I have some?"

I laugh. "Hmm..okay, sure, but just one piece."

"Mmm..." Jolyon thinks about it more, "Okay, but only for a little bit. Okay?"

"Okay, fair enough," Lourdes compromises, taking his hand, "See you after your kid betrays me."

"See ya."

I work for a solid ten minutes, before my door opens again. That's enough time to look over four posters that I can tell were hastily put together last minute, quite possibly during lunch in the library, though still hold quality fit for an A or B grade in my books. I just barely enter in the grades of the students whose posters I just examined, when there's a knock.

"Come in."

The door opens. "Where's my boy at?"

I scoff, looking at computer. "If he's your boy, then I'll accept child support in checks through the mail every first of the month."

"You don't want child support, remember?" Negan grins as he waltzes over. "Too prideful, or stupid, or something like that."

"Yes, but for you, my sweet, I'd make an exception."

"Asshole."

I chuckle. "Oh, what? You wouldn't want to give me money to raise your child?"

"No, I would, but only if I was sure you were fuckin' sober."

"Fuck you, I am sober."

"Sober now," Negan snickers, "And for like four weeks."

"Hey, aren't I supposed to get some sort of chip for that?"

"Beats the fuck outta me, ask your sponsor."

"You are my sponsor."

"Well, then, nope!" He grins, leaning on my desk. "I don't have some plastic coin to give you." He huskily chuckles in his throat. "But I could give you something else."

"Mm, I'd rather the chip; it'll be more satisfying."

Negan laughs. "Fuck you."

I smile. "Jolyon's with Lourdes."

"Lourdes?" He raises a brow. "She's still here?"

"Yeah..." I study his expression, "What?"

"She's been spending a lot of time here after work," Negan relays, "She doesn't do that normally, not since we stopped fooling around anyway."

"Well, maybe she's behind on grading, or...wants to keep on it."

"Or, she doesn't want to go home."

"Why wouldn't she want to go home?" I think about what I said. Then again, why would she?

"She doesn't want to go home to that prick she chose over me."

I roll my eyes. "First of all, get over it and secondly, her and Simon...get along for the most part."

"Yeah," He scoffs, "When he's horny."

"Isn't that the same type of arrangement you and her had?"

"No, that was different."

"Because you cared about her?"

"Because I might've been an asshole, but at least I didn't treat Lourdes like a piece of goddamn meat."

"You...had an affair with her, said insincere things, and then was a dick to her after you got caught," I blandly remind him, "And you didn't necessarily treat Lara and Claire very nicely either. I imagine the same for Miss Jessica."

Negan scowls at me.

"Am I lying?" I ask, before my eyes avert to the sight of Lourdes coming in.

"Alright, we're back," She says, bringing Jolyon, "He ate my last candy bar."

"You eat Snickers a lot, huh?" Jolyon asks her. "You had a lot of empties."

When I said "just one piece" I assumed we were talking about a tootsie roll, not a whole candy bar, but okay.

Lourdes chuckles, a little abashed. She spots Negan. "Oh, hey."

"Hey," Negan greets back, "Grading papers?"

"Um, yeah," She shyly smiles, tucking hair behind her ear, "But, I gotta go now, so..."

"Oh, really?" I knit my brows. "I thought you were staying 'til five?"

"Yeah, but Simon called and wants to go to dinner, so I'm gonna go home instead."

"Oh, okay," I scan her face, "I guess I'll see ya Monday morning then."

"Yeah," She nods, sweetly smiling, "Seven-thirty sharp."

"Bye, Lourdes!" Jolyon hug her legs.

"Aw, bye, Jol!" She hugs him back. "Have fun in Houston." Lourdes glances over at Negan, still a little meek, much to my astonishment. "Bye."

"See ya." Negan replies.

She leaves my classroom and as soon as Negan can see she's out of sight, he looks over at me, raising his brows as if to say; _"See?"_ I look back with uneasiness.

"What'd I tell ya?" Negan says.

"They're going to dinner."

"She was planning on staying, he called her, and now she's going home."

"Well...I don't know," I sigh, "I want to just believe that it's just their weird ass relationship, but...he's such an asshole to her."

"Think maybe there's something going on?"

"I...I don't know," I shrug my shoulders, "She's seems like such a force to be reckoned with, you know? It's hard to imagine that she'd let him push her around, but..."

"You think he's hit her?" Negan's tone sharpens.

"No, I mean, I don't know. I wouldn't think so, considering that he did a number on her dad when he hit her."

"Mommy?" Jolyon taps my arm.

I look down. "What baby?"

"Can we go outside and play now?"

I glance back up at Negan. "Um...Sure, Jol, go ahead."

Negan and I share a look, before he leads Jolyon out my classroom door. "Alright, you ready to chase some fast ones?"

"Yeah!" Jolyon cheers. "Can you give me a piggyback ride?"

"Sure, but just 'til we get outside," Negan tells him, "Can't have my players thinking I'm all soft, understand?"

"Yeah." Jolyon says, though I'm not sure he does understand the silly pride of the baseball coach.

 **...**

I am not okay with this. I stand in line with Jolyon, fidgety and sweating. My eyes want to look back at the bar towards the food court and gift shop. Jolyon holds my hand, but I don't think he's picked up on what a wreck I am. Each time the people at the podium let someone go, my heart beats faster. My parents walk up to us and I wish it'd be somewhat of a comfort to me, but I'm inconsolable.

"Well, we couldn't find a coloring book with just sharks, but this one looked nice." My mom hands me a coloring book for Jolyon.

I take it. "This is an adult coloring book, Mom."

"So?"

"So, it's too intricate," I complain, flipping through the pages, "It's for adults with anxiety."

"Oh, well, then maybe you should go sit down and color," She retorts, "He's four, honey, I don't think he cares if he stays in the lines."

"Can I see it?" Jolyon puts his hand out.

"Here."

He looks at the front cover. "It's a bug coloring book?"

"That's what it looks like."

"I like it!"

"See?" Mom smiles.

"Next!" The lady at the podium says.

I squeeze Jolyon's shoulder a little. "Okay."

We go up to her and I hand her Jolyon's ticket. "Thank you."

"Um, he's flying alone and he's never been on a plane before, so I, um, uh, was wondering if he'd be accompanied the whole way?"

"Get a hold of yourself, Pipsqueak." My dad says with his brows furrowed at my finicky behavior.

"Of course he'll be accompanied!" The lady cheerily assures me. "I think you called ahead this morning?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Yes, well, we assigned Quinn to sit with the little passenger the whole way!"

"Okay, great, thanks."

"Let me just call her over to take him to his seat." The lady says, reaching for the phone.

I nod, looking down at Jolyon. "You ready?"

"Mm, yeah."

"You're gonna be okay without me going with you?" I get down on my knee, fretting my hands by his arms. "Because I can go with you, if you want. I'll buy a ticket right now."

Jolyon blinks at me. "But you said you had to go on a field trip."

"Yeah, but I cancel and go with you instead, if you want," I tell him, "I'd rather hang out with you."

"And Dad?"

I waffle. "Uh...s-sure, yeah."

"Are you gonna spend the night at his house, too?"

"Um, well, no, I'll probably stay at a motel, but I won't be far away."

"Pippa." My mom quietly scolds.

I bite my lip. "So, what do you say? Do you want me to go with you?"

Jolyon glances down, thinking. This is the first time he'd be so far from me and home. I've always been just one call away. Finally, he puts his hands on the straps of his backpack. "No, that's okay. I can go by myself."

I'm dumbfounded. "Are you...are you sure?"

"Yeah." He nods his head, somewhat confident.

"O-okay," I nod back, "Okay, all by yourself. You're so brave."

"Ma'am," The worker addresses me, "We're ready for him."

"Alright," I look back to Jolyon, "You ready?"

"Yeah!"

I smile brightly. "Okay, give Gran and Pop a hug goodbye."

"Bye!" Jolyon hugs them both at the same time.

"Bye, Jolly. Have fun!"

"I will," He comes back to me, putting his arms tightly around me, "Bye, Mama."

I hold back tears. "Bye, baby," I then look at him, "I want you to call me as soon as Dad picks you up, okay?"

"Okay."

"And you can call me anytime, alright? As much as you want."

"Okay, Mom."

I kiss his cheek, standing up. "I'll see you in a few days. Be good and have fun."

"Bye, Mom." Jolyon starts to walk towards the smiling stewardess.

"Bye..." I watch him go with her towards the hall that leads to the plane. He looks back once and waves, just before he's out of sight. I stand there afterwards, sort of hoping he'll come running back with a changed mind, while also sort of proud that he hasn't.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah." I sigh heavily.

"It'll be alright, honey," My mom touches my shoulder.

"Yeah..." I repeat.

 **...**

I watch all the students file onto the bus in the soft breezy morning on Monday. I'm nursing my second double shot espresso after a lousy night's sleep. I don't like not having Jolyon around, it's just unnatural at home without him. He called me yesterday afternoon from Eugene's phone to tell me he got there alright and then once again before bed. I got another call this morning, which only made my heart grow fonder and more forlorn.

Avery and Diane are each riding one of the two buses with the students to supervise. That means the rest of us are riding in one car. Technically, there was supposed to be seven adults, but one of the other teachers bailed because his wife had a baby three days ago and when Claire found out Negan was going, she made up some barely believable excuse as to why she couldn't go either.

But, Avery didn't seem all that concerned, seeing as Negan's still going. If he can handle a whole football team by himself on an overnight game, then he can sure as hell handle fifty students with the help of four other adults. I wouldn't be surprised if he could handle them all on his own.

Anyway, since Avery and Diane are occupying the buses, Lourdes, Negan, and I are driving all the way to D.C. together in my Jeep with no one to buffer. Lourdes walked straight to my car this morning, put her bag in my trunk, and then sat up in the passenger's seat with a plan line for a mouth and sunglasses on. I don't think she's happy that Negan's going.

When all the students are loaded up and Avery's given Negan the directions to the hotel, him and I walk to the car.

"I bet we can get there in half the estimated time."

"I'd prefer to live, thank you," I huff, reaching for the paper, "Here, I'll give 'em to Lourdes, so she can read 'em to me."

"First of all, I'm driving," Negan informs me, "And we'll just punch it into your GPS."

"I don't have a GPS."

"Why the fuck don't you have a GPS?"

"My Jeep is from the 90's," I take the directions from him, "And your car's older, so it doesn't have GPS either, so don't even fucking start."

"No, but I have a GPS device." Negan chuckles.

"Well, go get it, then."

"It's at my house."

"Oh, well, then the good 'ol fashioned way is gonna have to work for us," I retort, "If it's good enough for the pioneers, it's good enough for us."

"The pioneers got lost a lot and died," Negan argues, humored, "Occasionally ate each other. You've played Oregon Trail."

"I have and not once did my characters eat each other. Don't be an ass, we'll be fine."

"Kick Lourdes to the back." He tells me, after seeing her in the front.

"I'm not gonna do that," I roll my eyes, "You're just gonna have to be nice and behave."

"Tell her to do the same."

"I don't know if that'll be a problem. I think she's hung over, so she might sleep the whole way."

"Jesus, really? On a Monday morning?"

"Are you really shocked by that?" I laugh, opening my trunk.

"Yeah, I don't know what I'm saying after knowing you." He loads our things up, peering up front at the back of Lourdes' head. "Hey, Lour. Fine morning we're having, huh?"

"Yeah," She scoffs, "Real nice."

He closes down the trunk, which makes her groan. "Yep, she's got a hangover."

"Dick."

"What are you doing?" Lourdes asks him as he opens the driver's door.

"Driving."

"Uh, this is Pippa's car. Why isn't she driving?"

"Because I called dibs," Negan smirks, sitting down on the seat, "But it's cool, if you want shotgun. Just so long as you realize that it's a big responsibility."

She makes a disgusted noise and unbuckles her seatbelt to get out. "You can have shotgun, Pip."

I wish I could tell you that we drove in silence for a while, but let's be real; we couldn't even make it down the street without loud mouth saying something.

"So, how was dropping the baby off at the airport?"

"Um, it was hard," I tell Lourdes, "I thought he was gonna be a mess when it came time to leave, but I guess I was the only one who was upset."

"Atta boy," Negan chimes in, "Tough as nails."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up."

"It's been one day and you've already got empty nest syndrome?"

I don't answer, because I don't feel like egging on his teasing.

"You think he's having fun?" Lourdes asks, leaning her head against the window.

"Yeah, his dad has some cool things planned."

"Like what?" Negan inquires.

"Like the zoo, the aquarium, the science museum. I think Jolyon said something about this new ice cream place."

He scoffs under his breath. "So, boring shit?"

I shrug. "It's not boring to Jolyon; he likes that stuff." I point over to the road. "You need to get in this lane."

Negan switches lanes. "So, he's spending four days doing nothing but educational crap?"

"That's what we're doing for three days, stupid."

He chuckles. "That's not all we're doing."

I smile, arching my brow. "What you don't want to learn a few new tricks?"

Lourdes groans. "This isn't a romantic getaway," She reminds the two of us, "There will be children present."

"Not in our hotel room." Negan replies.

"Uh, Pip and I are sharing a room," She furrows her brows, "You can't be there, too."

"We have adjoining rooms."

"What?" I can't see her eyes through her sunglasses, but I can't tell she's looking at me. "Did you know that?"

I glance away, ashamed. "Yes."

She huffs. "That's just great."

 **...**

We arrive in D.C. about four hours later. Lourdes was pretty steamed about the whole room situation, so she was quiet for the rest of the ride and catnapped her hangover away. Negan and I talked about little things, which is oddly unusual for us. We don't typically idly chat, but we did this morning.

We talked about signing Jolyon up for t-ball in the fall and about the softball game next Thursday. We talked about how sad that lady's story was at AA last Thursday and laughed about the injures we got as children. Negan got hurt a lot as a kid, which honestly doesn't surprise me, though I think some information might have slipped out without his knowing. It seems to me that Negan may have spent a lot of time alone as a kid, while his parents were working, or elsewhere. Every time he got hurt, he had to go to a neighbor's house for help, or call 9-1-1. It's the first time I ever heard him mention them. I guess I just figured he shot out from under the earth's core and then went to live amongst society once he cooled off.

Occasionally, when he said something low key concerning, I glanced back at Lourdes as if checking on her. She was still wearing her sunglasses, but from the side, I could see her peer my way, too.

The hotel is gorgeous. I can't believe a school as small as ours would book a hotel as regal as this, but I guess they've been fundraising since the beginning of the school year. The walls are a cream color with gold trim and dark blue floors. The chandelier in the lobby is so big, you could safely swing from it.

We're all up on the fourth floor, so once we corral all the students up there, we give them and ourselves an hour to rest and settle in, until we have to walk to this pizza place that's about three blocks away. Lourdes and I go into the room we split the bill on, since the rooms are sort of pricey.

She wheels her suitcase over to one of the beds, before she plops down on it. "Wake me when we're ready to go, okay?"

"Okay." I set my suitcase on the other bed. "Hey, Lour?"

"Hm?"

"You aren't mad, right?" I ask her, nervous. "About the rooms adjoining?"

"No, I'm fine," She grumbles, "I just didn't know you and him were planning on using this trip as a sex vacation."

"We aren't."

"Then why did you book the room right next to his?"

I bite my lip. "Because...he told me to."

Lourdes scoffs through her nose. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

I knit my brows. "Are you gonna lay there and tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing?

"Not in close proximity of my students."

"You and Simon were having fucking his car on the first day of school," I scoff, simmering, "And I know you've had phone sex."

"I DON'T want to talk about Simon," She adamantly states, no longer facing me, "So, leave him out of this."

I shake my head, sighing. "Whatever," I look towards the door that'll lead to Negan's room, "I'll let you sleep."

"Yeah, why don't you?"

I roll off her comment and open the door, going into the mini hallway between the rooms. I knock and then wait in the mutely lit room.

"Who is it?"

I roll my eyes. "C'mon, just let me in."

He laughs behind the door, before opening it. "Well, come on in, madam."

I tread past him, taking a look at his room. "What? Why does your room only have one bed?"

"Because it's the master to the other unit," He gloats, "The kids go nighty-night in that room, while Mom and Dad have alone time in this room." Negan snakes an arm around my middle from behind me. "Are the kids asleep?"

"Yeah and she's being a bitch."

He chuckles against me. "Lour's pissed, huh?"

"She's not happy that you came and definitely not happy about the room situation."

"Well, too fucking bad," Negan jokes, "I'm first priority."

I snort. "Yeah fucking right."

He laughs a little. "Are you implying that I'm not?"

"The only thing you're first in is getting a rise out of me."

"It's only fair, considering I get a rise from you."

"Oh, yeah?" I purr.

Negan cups my breast, kissing my neck. "Yeah."

"Aw, well, down boy," I break from him, going towards the bed, "I'm not looking to get laid right now."

"May I ask why?"

"You may," I humor him as I sit down, "And it's because I don't want to get all hot and sweaty, if we're gonna go get lunch in an hour and tour the botanical gardens."

"Alright, that's fair enough," Negan stops just a foot away from me, "How about a little oral then?"

"You have two seconds to get that thing out of my face, before you get punched in the dick."

"I meant on you, asshole."

"Ooh," I naughtily chuckle as he comes a little closer, "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'm gonna have to pass." I push him away with my foot. "I think I'm gonna freshen up a bit instead."

"You're gonna shower?"

"If you don't mind, which you don't, so yeah." I pull my hair up into a pineapple bun as I stand. "The downside to natural deodorant is that it's not longwearing on a hot day."

"Charming." Negan hooks his arm around me again, touching the small of my back. "Why don't we 'freshen up' together?"

"Oh, to conserve water, right?" I place my hand on his bicep.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds good."

"That's a good enough excuse?" I tip up on my toes to kiss him.

He shrugs. "Whatever gets me in that shower."

I cackle, putting my arms around his neck. "Well, it's your lucky day, because guys who flippantly pretend to care about water conservation just to get in my pants is my turn on."

"Go start the water, tiger."

I saucily arch my brow. "You go start the water, _tiger_."

"I don't fuckin' want to."

"Well, I have to get to naked."

"What better place to get naked than in a goddamn bathroom?" He retorts.

I groan, lowering my arms to my sides. "Touché, you lazy dick."

"Thought you had me there for a second, didn't ya?"

"I really did." I turn to go to the bathroom. _Smack!_ "Ow!" I yelp, touching the burning area on my ass. "What the fuck?"

Negan laughs his ass off, throatily drawing in air to breathe. "That'll teach you to get mouthy with me."

I rub the same spot, before dragging my feet to the bathroom. "Fucking motherfucker."

In the elegant bathroom, I turn on the water in the beautifully green tiled shower. I strip down to my birthday suit and pad over to the shell colored sinks, hoisting myself up onto the counter. The room is illuminated softly from the light square window that's high up on the wall between the shower and claw foot bathtub.

"You ready for me, baby?"

I watch him come through the door. "That sounds like something a prostitute would say."

"I wouldn't know," Negan smirks into his dimples as he strolls on over, "And they prefer to be called sex workers, so show some goddamn respect."

"Noted," I playfully nudge him with my foot, "Get naked."

"Alright," He reaches down to the hem of his shirt, "If you insist."

Negan leans over and hungrily takes me by the mouth, causing me to smack my head on the mirror behind me. "Negan!" I feel my head. "Jesus."

"Sorry, it was an accident." He chuckles, undoing his belt. "I thought you liked it a little rough?"

"Shut your mouth." I snap at his taunting, pushing myself off the sink to go to the shower. "Where's your toiletries?"

"Toiletries?" Negan scoffs. "You mean my soap and shit, right?"

"Yes, toiletries."

"In there," He motions towards the room, "Why?"

"I meant what I said about washing my pits." I barefoot towards the door.

"I'll get it," Negan gets to the door before me, "I don't want you fuckin' tossing my clothes all over the room."

"Who am I? Daisy Buchanan?" I retort, watching from the doorframe as he opens his suitcase and sifts through it for a small leather case.

"Catch."

I catch the bag and walk back into bathroom, unzipping the case. "Where's the shampoo and conditioner?"

"I left it at home," He answers, "I'll just use the shampoo the hotel puts out."

"You only use shampoo?"

Negan shrugs. "Two-in-one."

"Two-in-one? You mean that horse garbage that men think is a-okay to use, so they don't have to use actual conditioner?"

He laughs. "I don't have long enough hair."

"That doesn't matter."

"Are we gonna fuck each other's brains out, or are we gonna spend this trip fuckin' chitchatting about toiletries?"

"Alright, alright, let's do this. I'm tired of having to look at your flaccid penis." I waltz over to the shower, pulling open the glass door.

"Can't keep your eyes off it?"

"Yes, but only because it's creeping me out."

He snickers to himself. "You know, the best part about shower sex is that I won't have to tell you to clean yourself up afterwards."

I pause with one foot in the shower. "You really wanna strike out like that?"

"Fucking relax, I was kidding." He opens the shower door more. "Get in."

"Well, I don't know now."

"Pip, we're running out of time," Negan impatiently informs me, "I was kidding. I'm sorry, alright?"

I smirk. "I love when you're all desperate and begging for it."

"I'll show you who's begging for it." He tells me, closing the door behind us.

I chuckle. "I want you to call me daddy from now, alright?"

He scoffs into a laugh. "Bolt that trap of yours, you sick bastard." "That's daddy to y-"

Negan takes my arm and spins me around, crashing his mouth onto mine. My back touches the wall as we passionately kiss like cannibals. Spray from the shower mists my face as he leans into me. I moan in his mouth as I feel him start to harden against my leg.

My hands roam his wet skin as his reciprocates on my flesh. I feel his hand slither down and around my right thigh. He takes it and lifts it up. I open my eyes in mild confusion when my foot touches the marble corner of the shower that's supposed to be for soap and shampoo.

Negan's mouth devilishly curls into a grin, before he pecks my lips and then gets down. I watch, half-nervous, half-elated as he gets situated one knee, wrapping his arm around my elevated leg. I smile back when he peers up with that same smirk on his face and gingerly comb my fingers through his wet, slick hair.

My eyes shut softly at the feel of his mouth on me. I let out an alleviated moan, tilting my head back against the tile. His fingers press into my hips. Between my legs tightens and twinges with an achingly good sensation.

"Oh, god." I breathe and it makes him chuckle and proceed.

He goes down on me with such tender, desired hunger and it makes my legs quake under me. I've never felt this good before, or else I can't remember when I felt this good. He surpasses them all. The warm water beats against our adulterous bodies, but the breeze from the window offers some cooling licks of air.

I fidget a little, wanting to buckle underneath all the nerves and desperation. I lean forward a little, placing my hand on the glass for some relief.

"Oh, god," I pray shallowly, "Oh, god, oh, Negan."

I mewl as the feeling worsens with pleasure and I become weaker. My other hand runs through this hair, gripping it unintentionally.

It doesn't seem to bother him, because he keeps going, picking up the pace only slightly, but it's enough. I don't know what he's done, but it's sent me over the edge. I'm struck silent for what feels like forever, but is really only a few seconds. Despite my flinched indication of coming, Negan keeps at it, making me rapture even more.

Finally, I cry out, sending an echo bouncing off the walls. "Negan!"

Negan snickers, looking up at me. "Yes?"

I let out a choppy chuckle at his causal address, which makes him laugh back.

"Did I do good?"

I wipe some water from my face. "Yeah, you did okay. C's get degrees."

Negan scoffs into a laugh as he starts to rise. "There's no pleasing you, you fucking asshole."

I grin a little. "Well, I wouldn't give up. There's no hurt in trying."

He cackles, inclining his body against mine. "I don't know, I might have to see a chiropractor." He kisses me.

"Mm, well, I don't think you're health insurance covers injuries sustained while giving head."

Negan smiles, humored. "God, you're awesome."

I smile, kissing his lips. "Is that heat you're packing below, or are you happy to see me?"

He chuckles, returning the kiss more passionately, while reaching down towards my legs.

"Don't slip and drop me."

"I'm not gonna fuckin' slip and drop you." Negan promises, despite finding it funny.

Him and I maneuver so that he can enter me and I can wrap my legs around him. We simultaneously groan as we connect. I put my arms over his shoulders and cross them. Negan's eyes explore my face, which makes me want to smile at him, sincerely.

He smiles back, before steadily bucking his hips against me. I breath through a moan, wanting him to make me come again, before we have to be teachers and chaperones again. Negan thrusts evenly, instead of quick and deep like usual. He stills manages to reach the depth, because of our position, but he's taking things sweet and easy and I'm not complaining.

Negan's hand touches the tile behind me, while the other is holding my back. I look at him as his eyes close with pleasure and then open again to meet my gaze. I can't help but to smile at him, which he returns, before groaning again.

Still sensitive from before, it doesn't take me long to feel that climb again. I rest my head on the shower wall again, letting the water spritz my face as it bounces off his shoulder.

Negan puts his mouth on my neck, hungrily planting veracious kisses down to my chest. I moan at the act, getting worked up by how each time seems to tell me how much he wants me.

"Oh, Negan." I softly bless his name.

Negan moans when he hears his name roll off my tongue and it encourages him to go a little faster, desiring. I whimper as I begin to feel the ball start up the hill all over again. I almost want to cry at how good he makes me feel in this moment.

He bucks in and out of me with both lustful determination and care. He moves in a way that lets me know that he trying to be tender, while also wanting to fuck me hard until my flesh has imprints of the square tiles. It's enough.

My insides flutter around him as he, as well as the thought of him, gets me there. I abruptly moan, loud and sharp, again causing an echo that outshines the noise of the shower, before a gentler sigh.

Negan starts to break away from me and I undo my legs. He pulls out of me and flinches forward a little with a deep moan. I look down for a moment and then back up at him. I then reach over and take him in my hand, slowly stroking, which brings him closer.

"Jesus." He touches his forehead to mine as I work him over.

I catch his lips with mine and he moans into my mouth as he holds my kiss. It's only a few more seconds, until he comes, grunting suddenly and stilling himself. I give him a few more caresses, until he exhales and kisses me. My eyes curiously follow his movements.

He slicks back his hair. "Goddamn." He peers over at me.

I quietly extend my hand towards the cleansing stream.

Negan grins and breaks into a snickering laugh that I join in on. He takes the sides of my face and kisses my mouth one more time. "Holy hell, Pippa."

 **...**

The rest of the day swims by. We regrouped with the students and other chaperones after our shower and walked to that pizza place. Negan and I walked behind the clustered sea of teenagers, while Avery, Diane, and Lourdes either lead the group, or walked alongside of it. I spotted Lourdes glancing behind at us, every now and then, especially if one of us laughed too loudly.

After lunch, we walked to the botanical gardens which were beautiful. I had been here before, but not in years, so I forgot how amazing it was. The humidity made us all perspire, but we ignored it because of the all the flora and butterflies surrounding us. That is, of course, except Negan. He glanced around and nonchalantly noted that the gardens were "pretty." I don't think anything on this trip is really going to be his cup of tea. Negan's not the museum, touristy type.

He sighs through his nose as his eyes scan the greenhouse roof of the observatory, while also keeping an eye of our charges. He blinks and catches me staring at him, smiling as our eyes meet. I smile back, but shyly.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm smitten right now. Just the way he's looking at me and the way he looked at me back in the hotel has me smiling to myself nonstop. Maybe it's just nice to know that Negan can and will look at me that way, even after he learned about what a walking calamity I am.

"Give it back, Nanda!"

I look ahead at the commotion. Oh, fucking hell. Ravinder and her older, Nanda are a few feet ahead of me. Nanda has what looks like one of the pamphlets they hand you at the door. I roll my eyes as I walk over to them.

"Give her back the pamphlet."

Nanda looks me over and scoffs. "I was just kidding around with her."

"Well, you're done now, so give it back, please."

"Oh, god, whatever," Nanda frisbees the pamphlet towards her sister, "Take it, you big baby."

I cross my arms. "Rav, hold on a second."

Ravinder halts from picking it up off the ground. "What?"

"Miss Patel," I address Nanda, "Pick up the pamphlet and kindly hand it to your sister, please."

"What?" She arches her brow like I'm crazy.

"I asked you to give it back to her, not to rudely throw it, so pick it up and hand it back to her kindly, please."

"Are you f-joking with me?"

"Does it seem like I'm joking?" I promptly ask her.

Nanda stares at me like I'm a goddamn tyrant. The way most teenage girls, myself included at one point, look at authority.

"You signed a behavior form along with a non-bullying agreement before you went on this trip, yes?"

"...Yes." She scoffs again, before reaching down and picking up the pamphlet, suddenly reminded of the consequences of violating said contract. "Here." She gives it back to Ravinder with a snotty look on her face. When Rav takes it, she turns her head towards me and raises her brows. "There."

"Thank you."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes, that suddenly glance behind me. The attitude in her face drops as she becomes bashful and without her cool air. She retreats to catch up with some of her friends.

"What the hell was that about?"

I look over my shoulder. "Nothing, just a little squabble, right, Rav?"

"Uh, yeah." Ravinder sets her eyes on the pamphlet to avoid Negan's. "Thanks, Ms. Barnes." She walks off to presumably do that same thing as her sister.

"Did I just witness you threaten to revoke prom from Nanda Patel?"

"You did," I smirk, "Nothing makes a teenager shake in their boots like not getting to go to prom."

He huffs. "I didn't go to prom, it wasn't the fuckin' end of the world for me."

"You didn't go to prom?"

"No, did you?" He looks at me after saying that, almost apologetic. "Uh, never mind, you said you did."

We walk together through the garden quietly for a few seconds. "How come you didn't go to prom?"

"I got suspended for getting into a fight at school a couple days before."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I scoff. "You must have gotten into plenty of scraps when you were younger."

"Maybe a few," Negan chuckles, "But they were justified."

"I'm so sure," I dryly say, "What was the fight about?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You said your fights were justified." I look over at him with a smile, "What happened? Did the other guy make a pass at your girlfriend?"

"I didn't have a girlfriend in school," Negan grins my way, "I had girlfriends."

"I'm guessing you also had mono, too, you prick."

He snickers in response.

"So, what was the fight about?" I ask again.

Negan's smile lessens.

I look him over. "You know what? It doesn't matter."

Lourdes taps a tissue under her red, puffy eyes by some fountain. She nods at whatever a student is telling her. When he gets a look at her face, he says something and she shakes her head.

"It's just allergies."

 **...**

The morning light shines through the thin, white curtains of the hotel room. Negan turned the AC on in the middle of the night, so goosebumps veil my skin. I grind my hips on top of him, smiling between moans. His hands hold me by the waist, looking between me and where we meet, groaning huskily.

The past two days have been amazing. The tour started with all the national monuments, since Avery said they finished with those last last year and the kids were underwhelmed, so today, we're doing the Smithsonian and zoo. But I could care less the order we went in, because all my time has been occupied by Negan.

As much as I'd like to keep the air of not being amused by Negan's inappropriate jokes, or under breath cursing when he's bored, I can't help but to be amused. It's a little confusing to the students to see us getting along so well, considering I'm a "nice" teacher and he's the asshole coach who gives everyone a hard time.

Lourdes doesn't seem to be pleased about our buddying up. She's been sort of third wheeling it, stuck outside our circle without our intention of doing so. So, she just disappears, ending up by herself with a gaggle of students, or with Avery, or Diane.

I feel bad about it, especially since I'm choosing her over Negan, but I can't help it. Negan and I rarely get along like this. It's nice.

His eyes shut as he curses under his breath. I thrust somewhat faster, building us both up.

My phone buzzes on the right nightstand. I quickly peer over, but I don't stop to answer it. Negan glances over towards my phone and then back up to me. I smile into a chuckle and he laughs under me.

I finally fall over the edge, faltering movement only for a minute.

"Keep going," Negan rasps, "I'm almost there."

I keep going for a little longer, until he let out rather loud groan. "Shh," I snicker, bucking slower, "The rest of this floor is made up of children."

Negan pants, smiling. "Hell, hearing us rock the sheets would be the most interesting that's happened on this fuckin' trip."

"Why did you come if you knew you'd be bored?"

"Because you were going and we'd have a chance to be alone."

I scoff. "Ah, yes, where better to fuck your coworker than on a field trip as a chaperone?"

"Yep," He pats my leg, "Get off me."

I lean over, until my body's towering over his. "Make me."

Negan chuckles, before tossing me off onto the bed. I laugh out loud and he shushes and kisses me. I settle on my side and smile at him.

"Are you gonna be able to handle the Smithsonian?" I ask him. "Or am I gonna have to pull you in a wagon?"

"I'll be fine," His hand moves up my leg, "It can't be that bad, right?"

"You know there's multiple museums, right?"

"Yeah, but we're not going to all of 'em."

I chuckle. "Yeah, baby, we are."

Negan loses his smirk. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I laugh at him. "Yes! We only have time for the main exhibits and the zoo."

"You're a bitch, you know that?"

I stretch out my body. "Yes, I do, but you like me anyway."

Negan brings himself closer to me, planting a kiss on my mouth. "Yeah, you got me there."

I smile, feeling his arm and looking at his tattoos. "Did you get these before you met Lucille, or after?"

"Before," He answers, "Why?"

I shrug my shoulder. "I don't know...Lucille just seems like she'd be pissed if you came home with a new one."

"Yeah? Well...she probably would be."

"She doesn't like tattoos?"

"Nah, but she'd be pissed if I got a new one."

"The life of a superintendent's husband is a hard one, eh?"

"Shut the fuck up," He laughs, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You don't like tattoos?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"You don't have any."

"That doesn't mean I don't like tattoos, it just means that I'm too chicken shit to get one."

Negan laughs. "What time is?"

"Six-fifteen," I tell him, "We should get up soon, so we'll be ready to roll by eight."

"It only takes me twenty minutes to get ready."

I chuckle. "Well, I like to take my time."

I go to get out of bed, but he pulls me back. "You mean to tell me that it takes you an hour and forty-five minutes to get ready?"

I let him kiss me. "The time flies by, trust me."

"What the fuck do you need to do?"

"Shower, brush my teeth, put some lotion and deodorant on, put on makeup, and get dressed."

"Skip your makeup," He pecks my lips, "That's what'll take you the longest."

"I don't want to scare the students."

Negan snickers. "You're beautiful, skip the makeup."

"It's part of my routine," I touch his warm chest, "And I like doing it."

He rolls his eyes. "Fine."

I look him over. "What are you good to go again?"

"I could be, if you give me a few minutes."

I cackle. "I want at least want ten minutes to put some makeup on, so it'll have to be a quickie."

"I think that can definitely be arranged." He puts his mouth on mine, sliding his arm under my head to bring me closer to him.

"Mm, and let me warn you that Jolyon's likely to call."

"If you take the call during, I'll stop, but it'll put us behind schedule."

I snort, leaning my head back in his forearm in a laugh. "You are such a dick!"

He smiles as he kisses my lips and neck. "Same."

I chuckle against him, wrapping my arm around him as he pulls me in. "I love you!"

Negan pauses just before he puts another kiss on my neck. I feel him gently move out of our embrace. He stares down at me with slightly knitted brows. I furrow mine up at him, wondering why he's looking at me like that.

"What?"

His eyes scan my face. "You said you loved me."

I unknit my brows. "Oh...yeah."

"Why'd you say that?"

I feel a little sunk by that question. "I-It slipped out..." I look away from his fixed gaze, "You've said it a few times, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, but you never do."

My cheeks start to burn with embarrassment. I shrug. "...So?"

Negan looks at me still. "Did you mean it?" He asks. "Do you love me?"

I turn my head back to meet his eyes. "I think so."

His face becomes less intense. We stare at each other. I want him to say something, but he doesn't and now I'm starting to feel foolish. He just stares with a troubled look.

I open my mouth, trying to muster the guts to ask him. My phone breaks the silence between us as it buzzes on the nightstand. I don't move at first, but after the third time, I cut eye contact and reach for it, which makes Negan shift over to his space on the bed.

I see Eugene's name on my screen. "It's Jolyon."

"Call him back."

"No, I have to answer it," I press the green and put it to my ear, "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom." Jolyon croaks.

"Hey, baby," I greet back calmly, "Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" I spoke to him yesterday, but it's such a relief to hear his voice. "Is your dad up?"

"Yes," He informs me, "Do you want to talk to him?"

"No, no, I was...just making sure," I tell him, "Is he making breakfast?"

"Yeah, he's making pancakes with chocolate chips."

"Oh, sounds good," I rub my elbow, "So, how is everything? Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, Dad said we can go to the zoo today and the movies tomorrow."

"Oh, really? Wow, sounds like so much fun. I wish I was there."

"Me, too," Jolyon says, "I miss you, Mama."

"You do?" I turn around when I feel movement on the bed.

"Yeah."

I watch Negan go to the bathroom, glancing at me briefly before he enters. The door closes and I hear the click of the lock. "I miss you, too, baby."

"How long 'til get to see each other again?"

"Two days, Jol. That's not long, right?"

"No."

"No, so we'll see each other very soon, okay?"

"Okay," He agrees, "Are you having fun on your field trip?"

"I am having fun," I exhale with my aching throat, "I think you'd really like it. I'll have to bring you sometime. Maybe over the summer."

"Okay. What?" Jolyon calls to someone in the background. "Okay!" He answers. "Breakfast is ready."

Tears well up in my eyes. "Okay, you better go eat then, if you're gonna go to the zoo."

"Okay, bye, Mom. I'll see you in two days."

I smile as I wipe under my eyes. "Alright, I can't wait. Bye, babe."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." I wait for him to hang up the phone before I take it away from my ear. I sniff, looking back at the bathroom, where I can hear the shower going.

 **...**

We spent the morning at the zoo, which I personally couldn't give two solid fucks about. Watching apathetic animals sleep in their exhibits all day isn't really my jam. I bought Jolyon a neat book about the animals and a postcard, though.

The Smithsonian is fucking huge. It's overwhelming just reading the damn booklets and brochures. But, it's awesome still; Jolyon would really like it here.

"Hey, Ms. Barnes, isn't that the kind of car Gatsby had?"

I glance over to where one of my juniors has pointed. "Oh, yeah, it is."

"How come this one doesn't have seatbelts?" Another one peers into the old car.

"Because seatbelts weren't mandatory until later on." I answer.

"Why not?"

"Because people liked launching their loved ones from the backseat and scraping carcasses off the road." I dryly reply, looking over at Negan's group filing in. "Alright, if we're all done in here, let's move on to...'The Era of Advertising'."

"That sounds kind of boring."

"Well, maybe that's why it's not a permanent exhibit." I wave over the rest of my group. "Come on, people! Let's go see all the old doctor-recommended cigarette ads."

"The what?"

"Exactly, let's go." I look back and see Negan looking my way.

We've been sort of avoiding each other after this morning. When I got off the phone with Jolyon, I left Negan's room and went back to the one Lour and I share. She was still passed out, from going down to the bar downstairs after lights out, I found out, so I just got in the shower.

When it was time to go down and eat breakfast, I sat between Lourdes and Diane. Diane is nice, but not all that interesting to talk with and Lourdes was both nursing her hangover and too pissed to speak to me. Negan sat across from me, not really having a choice.

We didn't really make too much eye contact as we ate and when we headed out, we didn't walk together, or combine our students when Avery separated the students into five groups.

"Whoa, this one has table cleaner listed as a-" Ravinder stops talking when she sees me approach the transparent, triangular column that has small clippings displayed.

I look at the old Pine Sol ad and then at her. "Aren't you glad you didn't grow up in the 50's?"

"Yeah."

I snicker. "C'mon."

 **...**

Later on, we walk over to the art museum. In here, the principal doesn't care about groups, but most of the students just stay in the groups for convenience. Negan and I still keep our distance.

I mosey on closer to Lourdes, who's looking at some painting on the wall.

"Hey."

"Hey." She says without looking at me.

"How's the hangover?"

"Fine, now hopefully no one heard you and I don't lose my job."

I look around. "I don't think anyone..." I trail off when she walks away, "Heard."

I sigh, glancing back at the painting. It's of a Toulouse-Lautrec painting of a woman lying on a bed with her legs open. I want to go home. I want Jolyon to come home, too, so we can just spend a few quiet days alone together, away from the rest of the world.

"My kind of gal."

I inhale and exhale through my nose. "That's not funny."

"You sure?" Negan asks.

"Yes," I walk off, following behind the last lingering students, "Not everything's a joke."

Ravinder waits for me by the opening to the next exhibit, sort of using me a shield from her sister's bratty harassment. "Did you see that cool charcoal drawing in there?"

"Yeah, I did, it was cool." I smile. "How you liking everything?"

"I like it a lot!" She ecstatically tells me. "Everything is so cool. This is the first time I've been this far from home without my parents."

"Were you nervous?"

"Mm, no, not really. Nanda's here."

I glance over at her as we walk. "Even though she gives you a hard time?"

"Yeah, she's a B-word, but she's still my sister."

I nod my head. "I know how that goes. I have an older sister, too."

"Is she a B-word, too?"

I smile at that way she says "B-word" instead of "bitch," which is just how she is. I've heard her describe Negan as being a "real A-hole" in the halls, when other students would just call him an "asshole" uncut.

"Well, she can be sometimes," I tell Rav, "But usually only when she's looking out for me."

"She still looks out for you, even though you're an adult?"

"Yeah, well, even as an adult, I still make dumb mistakes."

"Like what, if you don't mind me asking?"

I hesitate. "Uh...boy troubles."

"Oh, you mean dating?"

"Yeah," I nod, sort of unsure if this an appropriate conversation to be having with a sixteen year old, "I am not the best at it."

"Really?" She inquires, somewhat surprised. "But you're so pretty."

I chuckle. "Well, be that as it may, I've met a lot of jerks."

"Huh," Ravinder stops at a painting, "Nanda's the pretty one, so I wouldn't know."

I knit my brows, turning away from the piece. "What are you talking about? You're pretty."

"Pretty dorky."

"There's nothing wrong with being...dorky and that doesn't mean you aren't pretty, Ravinder."

"Were you dorky in school?" She inquires, looking at me.

"Um, well...no, but that doesn't matter. We're not talking about me, we're talking about you and you are pretty, okay?"

"You're a teacher, you have to say nice things."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Look, you may not look like Nanda, but that's because you aren't Nanda. You're your own self and your own beauty and anyone who says you're not beautiful is an asshole and a liar, got it?"

She smiles. "Got it. Thanks."

"Smart girl," I pat her backpack, "Let's catch up with the group."

"Okay." She speeds up, giggling a little as she does.

"What's so funny?"

"Nanda has a huge crush on..." She looks over shoulder and then at me.

I glance behind us and see that the coach has just entered the exhibit. I blink back to her. "Oh."

"Don't tell anyone."

"Trust me, I won't." We continue walking.

"Anyway, she's always had a big fat crush on you-know-who, ever since she started high school four years ago."

I arch my brow. "And she's not once changed her mind?"

"Nope, she thinks he's super hot and she's so mad that he doesn't notice her."

I make a face. "He doesn't notice her, because she's a student and while Coach Negan is an tremendous asshole, he's not a creep, or a pedophile."

"Well, she's eighteen now, so she thinks she's got a shot."

"That...still would be pretty creepy."

"Right?" She chuckles.

I chuckle with her. "Oh, this one's pretty cool."

"Yeah," Ravinder peers over me, "Uh, I'm gonna catch up with my friends."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead, honey."

"Okay." She takes off, politely abiding by the no running rule.

I stroll behind to keep an eye out, while also casually looking at the art as I pass.

"You know, I can't help but think the kid would like this place."

I look at the marbled ground. "Yeah."

"Didn't you say you had tickets for something up here?" Negan small talks. "Admission's free here, you should bring him by whenever you get around to taking him to that thing."

I glide my tongue along my teeth, nodding. "Yeah."

He sighs behind me. "Really, Pip? We're gonna fuckin' do this all over again?"

"Do what?"

"The cold fuckin' shoulder, because one of us is mad at the other, bullshit we do every other week."

I adjust my purse strap on my shoulder. "No, we're not."

"Good," He says, "Because I was thinking that after it's lights out for the kids, you and I could maybe leave our rooms about five minutes apart and maybe go get something to eat. Take a walk."

I bite my lip, shaking my head. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Well, why not?"

I exhale, "Because I don't want to."

"Why don't you-"

"Negan, please!" I sharply turn towards him and look him in the eye. "Please, just stop and leave me alone."

He stares back, before he sighs, frustrated. "Fine."

I nod, walking away before the tears rise.

 **...**

The restaurant in the hotel room is just as beautiful as the hotel itself. Soft, classical music plays in the room as people dine at tables with tablecloths made of white linen. I listen to both the music and clinking of forks and knives on gold rimmed plates as I sit at the bar, staring down at the gin and tonic on top of the napkin coaster that rest on a black granite bar.

I fiddle with the napkin's corners as I think about not crying over what I've been thinking about all day. God, I'm such an idiot. I didn't mean to tell Negan that I loved him. It really was a slip up, but once it was said, I have to admit that it felt right. I mean, it's wrong because he's a married man, but it just felt like I truly meant it.

Sad thing is; I don't think it was just sudden. I think it started some time ago, without my knowing. Maybe around the time he convinced me to get clean and stayed the weekend with my son and me. When he made love, or what I thought was making love, to me. I don't know, that's the only time I can cognitively recall as the first time of feeling the way I do now.

It's a mistake, right? Obviously. I don't have a chance and I don't know that I want one, if this was an alternate universe and I was offered one. Negan might be a cheating bastard, but he loves Lucille and I don't doubt he'd kick me to the curb, which is fitting since that's where I stand with him anyway, if she ever found out about us.

"Is something wrong with your drink, ma'am?"

I look up at the bartender. "Sorry?"

The bartender points to the drink I ordered. "You haven't touched your drink."

"Oh," I glance down at it, "Uh, no, it's fine. I just changed my mind is all. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," She shrugs, "I mean, technically twelve-fifty, but I'm not gonna charge you for what you didn't drink."

"Oh, thanks."

"No problem, hon."

I reach into my purse. "Let me at least give you a tip."

"If you want."

I hand the girl a five. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," I notice an interesting tattoo on her neck that just barely hides under the spiffy collar of her uniform, "I like your tattoo." I say when she catches me trying to make it out.

"Thanks," She adjusts her collar to better conceal it, "Have a good one."

"Thanks and you, too," I peer over at her nametag, "Laura."

I leave the bar and the restaurant, fishing out my cigarettes and lighter. The elevator dings, before it opens its doors. I nonchalantly look that way, only pausing when I see whom else but Negan. He walks out of the elevator and it's not long before he catches sight of me. His eyes move to to where I just left and then back, scowling at me.

I put my cigarettes and lighter back in my purse, suddenly losing the desire to smoke. I tread to the elevators, past him and click the four button. It opens immediately and I enter, clicking the four button on the pad inside. He slides past the doors as they close. Fuck me, we're the only ones in the lift.

"What were you doing just now?"

"Minding my own business," I retort, "You should try it sometime."

"You were at the bar, weren't you?" His reflection from the mirrored walls show him looking angrily at me.

"I was at the bar," I tiredly look at my phone, "Swell job, Nancy Drew."

He scoffs. "So, what? You fucking threw away sobriety that fuckin' fast?"

"You know, the nice thing about minding your own business is that it's never too late to start."

"Did you drink?"

"No, I didn't."

"Prove it."

I huff, looking at him with furrowed brows. "Excuse me?"

"Prove you didn't fuckin' drink downstairs."

"Go ask the bartender, she'll vouch for me."

"No, I want you to prove it."

"Well, my word isn't evidentially good enough, so what? You want me to let you smell my breath?"

"If that'll clear your name."

"Fuck you!"

"So, you did drink."

"No, I didn't!" I breathily huff into his face. "See?"

He answers by crashing his mouth against mine, but I slap him.

"Don't do that!" I snap, stalking out of the elevator when it gets to our floor.

"Pippa!"

"Shut up!" I hiss. "You'll wake everyone up."

"Slow the fuck down, so I can talk to you."

"Why? So, you can tell me you're glad that I wasn't fucking lying? Piss off."

"Fucking-" He grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him, "Wait a damn minute!"

"Let go of me!" I furiously whisper.

"Calm the fuck down," He says sharply, but quietly, "Look, I'm sorry. I just thought you fell off the wagon."

"Well, I didn't."

"I know, I just...was afraid you did because of what happened this morning."

"This morning?" I scoff, raising my brow at him. "You mean, when I told you that I loved you and you didn't say anything?" He stares at me with furrowed eyes. "Well, I didn't, so don't think so fucking highly of yourself."

"So, you are pissed that I didn't say it back?"

"Yes!" I hoarsely bark. "I am pissed! I'm pissed off at myself for loving you and being disappointed that you don't love me back!"

His brows gather further. "What?"

"I was never trying to love you, Negan," I sigh, still fuming, "It was just supposed to be fun and that was it. But, I love you and it's really fucked up, because you're married and I...am right back to where I started." I chuckle through some tears. "I'm back to breaking my own heart."

Negan looks at me with a pitiful expression. I tread down the hall some more, past the vending and ice machine room. I can feel him following behind me as I pull out my room key.

"Pippa."

"Goodnight, Negan," When I feel his hand on my arm again, I lividly spin around, "I said goodni-"

His hands tenderly take hold of my face as he lays his lips on my lips. The kiss is passionate and unravels me. He moves his head back to look at me, endearingly. I pant a little as I wait for him to say something.

Negan pecks my lips once more. "I do love you, Pippa."

I look away. "Don't fuck with me."

"I'm not fucking with you."

I huff, feeling tears break the surface. "I'm not Lourdes, Negan. I don't want to be fucking lied to."

"Jesus," He groans, rolling his eyes, before focusing them back on me, "I'm not feeding you a line, Pip."

I glance at him, carefully searching his eyes for deceit. "You're not?"

"No, I'm not," Negan earnestly claims, before licking his lips, "I love you, Pippa. I do, I just..." He exhales, "It's complicated."

I roll my eyes. "Here we go."

"Come on, I'm not stringing you along here. Fuck," He tips my head up from under my chin, "I...feel strongly for you and your boy."

"...You do?"

"Yes," He firmly tells me, "I just...I just can't leave my wife for you. It wouldn't be right. I mean, what kind of fucking garbage, piece of shit excuse for a man would I be if I fuckin' left my wife, so I could be with a younger woman who can have kids?"

I gaze over at him, thinking about what he's said. I nod my head, sighing. "I know, I don't want you to leave her either."

Negan moves some curls out of my face. "I love you."

I break into a smile. "I love you, too, you asshole."

He chuckles as he leans over and kisses me again. I smile at him and he smiles back. A faint sound catches both our attentions, causing us to whip our heads to the left. Negan steps back from me.

Nanda Patel stands four doors down by where the vending machines are. She stands, stunned, with a few candy bars and two sodas in her arms. Her eyes move between the two of us.

"What are you doing out of your room after hours?" Negan regains faster than I do.

She looks fearful. "I-I...was getting-"

"Get back to your room, now." He curtly orders. "Now!"

She steps backwards a few steps, before completely turning around to go to a door two down on the left. She knocks on the door and it opens. She takes a second look at us, before quickly fleeing inside.

"Oh, my god," I breathe, "Oh, my god. She saw us!"

Negan sighs, running his hand down his beard. "Fuck."

"What are we gonna-"

"Sh!" He opens the door to his hotel room and ushers me in.

I go in, panicking. "What the fuck are we gonna do?"

"Nothing, what the hell can we do?" He scoffs.

"I don't know," I start to pace, covering my face, "She's probably telling all her friends right now."

"And?"

I move my hands away, puzzled. "And? And they'll each tell ten more students and so on and so fucking forth!"

Negan snickers under his breath. "Pip, students gossip all the fucking time about teachers. It's all fucking made up bullshit."

"What if it gets back to Avery? This isn't made up bullshit; she saw us!"

"It's her word against ours."

I pinch between my eyes. "I wish you'd be on my level on this."

"Relax, baby," Negan strolls over, pulling me close, "It's her word against ours. She was out when she wasn't supposed to be."

"Yeah, but she doesn't like me and-"

"And all the more reason to not believe her."

I glance off, considering it. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Yeah, so quit worrying; it'll be fine."

I sigh, "Okay, I'll...try."

"Atta girl." Negan chuckles, inclining my way to kiss me.

I push him back a little. "Easy, tiger."

"What?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I think we should call it a night."

"But you just confessed your love for me."

As much as I'd like to be serious, he makes me break out in a small laugh. "I'm having doubts."

He puts his hand under my chin. "Doubt it." He kisses me softly.

I touch his face as I kiss him back. We stand in the between the little kitchen and the bed, embracing. I don't want to sound all sappy, or cliché or anything, but it's fucking electric. I love him and at this moment, I have no reason to believe that he doesn't feel the same for me.

However, the electricity between us is disrupted by a _thud!_ We both glance towards the adjoining door. Oh, god.

"I think that was Lourdes." I say.

"Yeah, probably." Negan agrees, before planting a kiss on my cheek and jaw line.

I put my hand over his mouth. "I should go check on her."

"She's an adult, she's fine."

"Don't be a dick," I walk over to the door, "I just want to make sure she's not hurt."

"If she was, she'd fuckin' call for help."

I huff, "Not if she's knocked out." I go into the little hall and then into the room. "Lour?"

Lourdes is lying on her bed, perfectly still and with her back against me. The room is dark, except for the light in the bathroom.

"Lourdes?"

"What?" She murmurs.

"Are you okay?" I ask her. "I heard a noise."

"It was nothing, I just dropped my hairdryer on the floor, putting it away."

"Oh," I nod, "Okay."

"You can go back to Negan's room now." She's so motionless, it's scary.

I scratch the back of my hand. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I said it was the hairdryer," She raises her voice a little in annoyance, "Just go."

I hear the crack in her voice and it concerns me. I sigh through my nose and leave the room to go back to Negan's. When I enter his room, he's sitting on the end of the bed.

"Well?"

"It was the hairdryer."

"See, nothing to worry about."

"Yeah..." I bit my lip, "But I think I'm gonna go back."

"Stay."

I smile at him. "I think I need to stay with our girl."

Negan scoffs. "It's just man troubles."

I snicker. "Yeah, well, I can relate, so I'm gonna go spend the night in there. Might as well, I paid for half of it."

"Alright, whatever."

"Aw, don't be such a sourpuss," I saunter over to him, "I'll make it up to you."

"Make it up how?"

"Well..." I trace behind his ear down to his jaw line, "We didn't ever get around to doing that thing you wanted to do."

"What th-Oh-ho-ho!" He grins when he figures it out. "That thing."

"Yeah," I chuckle huskily, tired, "But I won't make you do all that other stuff. You can go straight to the finish line."

Negan takes my hand from his face. "Where's the fun in skipping the race, champ?"

I smile wider. "I love you."

He kisses the palm of my hand. "I love you."

I step forward, between his legs, until I can't. I bring him in arms, petting his head as he rubs my back. I lay my cheek on him for a moment.

"Good night."

"Night." He sighs.

I disengage and walk back to the door. As I open it, I glance over my shoulder gently smiling at him. He offers a light smile back.

I reenter Lourdes and I's room again and find her where she was. Except this time, she's crying. I quietly kick off my shoes and dress down.

"Lour?"

"Leave me alone."

I nod again and go into the bathroom. I wash up real quick and brush my teeth, before flicking off the lights with the thrumming fan.

I peel back the covers of my bed, listening to her sob and sniff. I exhale, closing my eyes and lower the blankets. I pad over and gingerly crawl onto the bed. I sit there for a second, before putting a kind hand on her shoulder.

Lourdes cries even harder, no longer able to hold it in.

"It's okay." I say with a soothing tone; one I use with Jolyon when he's anxious, or upset.

Her body trembles with her cries. She rolls over and rests her head on me, putting her arm across my body. I hold her maternally.

"It's okay." I repeat, stroking her hair in a calming way; letting her just cry. "It's okay."

 **...**

The next morning, I wake with a stiff neck from leaning my head against the headboard all night. Lourdes fell asleep in my arms, completely distraught. Even after she fell asleep, her breath sharply jutted every couple inhales. We didn't speak about it, or what caused it. We just packed our bags to get ready for the trip home.

After a quick breakfast, the students load up on the buses, along with Diane and Avery. Nanda Patel stole glances at me all morning, averting her eyes as soon as I'd catch on. Each time she seemed shy, or embarrassed...stunted. I don't see any other students look at either me or Negan funny, so I think it's almost safe to say that she's not told anyone. For now, anyway.

Negan, Lourdes, and I drive home together again. Negan insists on driving and I'm too tired to drive, so I don't argue. Lourdes gets in the backseat with her sunglasses again, but that's only to mask the puffiness of her eyes.

"We need to get gas, before we head out." Negan says, starting up my Jeep.

"Good, 'cause I could use some coffee," Lourdes replies somewhat genially, "That crap they have in the hotel is fucking jet fuel."

Negan chuckles. "How much better do you think gas station coffee is gonna be?"

"Oh, it'll probably be sludge, but drinkable sludge," She buckles her seatbelt, "Plus the gas station down the road's next to a donut shop."

"Donuts do sound good." I chime in.

"I'm buying." She says.

"Okay." I glance at Negan and can't help to smile when he gives a smirk. I look ahead at the bright morning and the road home.

 **Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed!**  
 **Moorish Woe: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I have a feeling she's gonna be less interested in Dwight for the time being ;) Which I think is good, because she def needs to move on to heal. To answer your question about the status of Pippa and Jolyon in the ZA, since this is a AU fanfic, they could potentially still be alive during the ZA. Maybe with one of the three (I severely doubt Eugene, since she's admitted that she doesn't really have feelings for him and it takes him a while to get to Virginia), or maybe elsewhere, beyond their knowledge.**

 **PruRose: I know! I was sort of nervous about writing such sad, painful stuff for both Negan and Pippa ( also Dwight, technically). I imagine Dwight reacting the same way, too. He just seems like that kind of person, especially since was young and in love. I agree, Negan and Pippa definitely have a stronger relationship. Dwight's too wishy-washy.**

 **CLTex: Yeah, it was time she fessed up to all the things she's been holding in for so long. I'm glad she revealed what happened with Eugene, too, because I think it chipped her a little for Negan to find out she'd done such a wrong thing. But, I also think Negan can respect her honesty and humility about it, too, considering he's not perfect either.**

 **StTudnoBright: Haha, yeah, I figured she'd pulled his leg with that Head Coach move. Glad you liked Pippa and Negan's little heart to heart. They really got to know one another on such a deep level. The ping pong table is sort of a herald...**

 **P.S.: If you've asked a question and I didn't answer, I apologize. If it hasn't been answered already, feel free to let me know.**


	39. Chapter 39

The bell rings for lunch, so all the fourth period students put away their binders and notebooks to leave. I set my personally annotated copy of Gulliver's Travels on my desk.

"For those of you who don't want me to keep your projects; don't forget to take them home."

A couple students grab their graded projects from the table by the door as they file out. I gather up my purse and keys from the bottom drawer of my desk. I look up and notice Ravinder glance at me without a word, before exiting.

I put my purse strap on my shoulder and walk out of my classroom, locking it behind me. She has to know; Nanda must have told her what she saw in the hall of the fourth floor of the hotel. Ravinder's been giving me odd looks all week since school started. Surprisingly though, I don't think Nanda's told anyone else, because I've been paying attention in the halls to see if any students look at me in anyway that my anxious, slightly paranoid brain would detect as worrisome and so far, nothing out of the ordinary.

I still think Negan and I should be on red alert until she graduates and we have nothing to worry about. That unfortunately means no more private lunches in his office. It's probably for the best; we can't keep fooling around where we work.

I don't even know what the repercussions for fraternizing with a coworker is for that matter. There weren't really any teachers like Negan at my other school. There was this really hot substitute that would come around every now and again, but he had too upbeat an attitude and didn't drink, so we never would have worked out.

Lourdes can be heard on her phone, in Spanish, which means it's either her mom, or Simon. By the tone of her voice, my bet is on Simon. I don't know what's going on, but I can't imagine good things. She's been really sort of moody since we got back from the trip. Either she's wry and biting, or she's sheepish and wants to have lunch together. I don't think she'll tell me, so I haven't mustered up the courage to ask.

"Ms. Barnes."

I glance over my shoulder. "Not now."

"Why the hell not?" Negan catches up to me.

"Because I'm having lunch with Lourdes."

"Fuck, again?"

"Yes," I see her standing by the entrance, "If you wanted to have lunch with me, then you need to speak to my secretary to be penciled in."

"Don't I get first dibs, since you love me?"

"Shh!" I silence him. "And no, you don't."

He snickers. "Are you free after school?"

"No, Jolyon's got swim class at five."

"Swim class?" Negan scoffs. "When the fuck did you sign him up for swim classes?"

"Monday night."

"You never told me."

"I didn't think I needed to discuss it with you," I raise my brow at him, "And it was sort of a last minute thing. Tonight's his first class."

"Why the sudden interest in swimming?"

"Ever since he got back from Houston, all he's been talking about is the aquarium and all the otters and sharks, etcetera, etcetera, and now he's hounding me about learning to swim. Well, my mom's seen this "Minnow Swim Class" flyer at the rec center and it was only forty bucks, so I signed him up."

"I thought you were signing him up for t-ball?"

"I missed that one, so I have 'til the fall, remember?"

"Take him to the batting cages."

I huff. "It's t-ball, Negan. He'll be hitting the ball off a stand."

"The batting cages here have a t-ball area." He enlightens me.

I smile. "And who do you recommend as a good coach?"

"I might know a guy," Negan haughtily implies, "A handsome fucker."

"Is he cheap?"

"No, but if you're strapped for cash, he accepts other ways of payment."

"Hm, sounds like a real scumbag to me."

"Mira, tengo que irme," Lourdes tells the person she's talking to, "Hablo contigo más tarde."

"Hey."

"Hey," She sticks her phone in her purse, looking at Negan, "Are you coming, too?"

I shake my head. "No, he's-"

"Pippa invited me." Negan smirks.

"No, I-"

"Okay, whatever," Lourdes walks out the front doors, "I'm starving."

I watch her go down the steps, shocked. Okay? What the fuck is she talking about? She can't stand Negan.

"You coming?"

My eyes move to Negan. "Uh, yeah."

 **...**

"What do you feel like having for dinner?"

"Grilled cheese."

"Grilled cheese?" I push the cart, "Are you making my night easy?"

"Yeah," Jolyon answers, barely paying attention, "Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"How come that pool was so warm?"

"Because it was heated up before the class."

"Nobody peed in it?"

I chuckle. "No, nobody peed in the pool."

"Because you're not supposed to?"

"Yeah..." I look over at him, "Did you pee in the pool?"

"...By accident."

"Accident?"

"It happened when I was waiting my turn to swim over to Daniel."

"You mean while you were standing on the steps?"

"Yeah."

"Babe, why didn't you tell me you had to go?"

"I didn't want to miss my turn," He peers up at me, "Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad," I exhale, "Just tell me next time, okay?"

"Okay," He nods his head, "Hey, Mom?"

"Hey, Jol?"

"Can you make mac 'n' cheese instead?"

"Sure."

"With the seashells and the white cheese?" He asks. "Not the box kind."

"Okay," I agree as we peruse the aisles, "Not the boxed kind. Vegetable?"

"Asparagus."

"Alright, but now you really can't pee in the pool."

"Because my pee will stink?"

"Yep, they'll definitely smell it." I lie as I grab a box of pasta shells.

"Hey, Mom?"

I sigh. "Yeah, babe?"

"Dad said I can come back for the summer, if that's okay with you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Is it okay with you?"

I bite the corner of my lip. "Um, we'll see. Maybe not for the whole summer, but a week or two might be okay."

"How come his apartment is so small?"

"Because he lives by himself and because a smaller apartment offers a better sense of 'structure'."

"Oh, okay."

"Alright, let's go, so we can go home."

As soon as we get out to the windy parking lot, I load Jolyon up in his booster seat and set the three bags I have on the floor of the back seat. I walk around to the driver's side of the car, thinking about what Jolyon told me in the store. Call me unfair, but I don't think I want him spending two and a half months in Texas. I know I have him all the rest of the year, but he's only four and that's such a long time to be away from home.

"Pippa?"

I look up from the ground. "Dwight."

"Hey," He comes over, "You leaving?"

"Uh, yeah, we just finished up," I cross my arms, "You here by yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah, I was on my way home and, uh, Sherry asked me to pick up some things."

I nod my head. "Well, I should go. I've got ice cream in the car."

"Okay," Dwight replies, "But, hey, I tried to call you a couple days ago, but you didn't pick up."

I tuck some hair behind my ear. "Yeah, I was out of town and I forgot my phone."

"Oh," He reaches into his pocket as his phone rings, "Okay." He puts the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

Don't ask me why I stood there, when it could've been easy to slip away, mouthing a goodbye.

"Well, what time?" Dwight asks whoever's talking to. "But I thought we were...I'm at the store now." He sighs, disappointed. "Yeah, that's fine. Don't worry about me; I can make my own dinner. I always do... I didn't mean anything by it, it's just..." Dwight turns, lowering his voice, "I didn't say you were a bad cook, I was just saying that-" He brings the phone down from his face, glancing at me. "She hung up."

I nod my head. "I'm guessing your dinner plans changed?"

"Yeah, she's decided to go out with some friends from work."

"Oh...well, I-"

"Hi, Dwight!"

I turn around to see Jolyon poking his head out from the door he's opened. "Why are you out of your seat?"

"You're taking too long," He explains, "Is Dwight coming over to our house for dinner again?"

"No," I swiftly answer, "Dwight's gotta go home, so get back into your seat, please. I'll be right there to re-buckle you in."

"Okay!"

I look back to Dwight. "I have to go."

He puts his phone back in his pocket. "Sure, I'll...talk to you later."

"Yeah," I turn to go, but stop short, "Although...maybe you shouldn't."

"What?"

"Uh..." I sigh heavily, moving the hair the wind pushed into my face, "Look, D, I'm trying to get my life on track, for once, and don't take this the wrong way, but I want to drink every time I've been with you and you leave."

Dwight stares at me, appearing to be both offended and stricken with guilt.

"Plus, I've been sort of getting serious with that guy from work and he's been helping me with my problem, so..." I glance back to the inside of my car, "I've gotta go. I'll...see ya around."

"Pippa..." He almost takes a step forward, "I'm...I'm sorry."

I nod my head. "Have a good night."

 **...**

"Alright, nice hit!" I clap as one of our players knocks the ball clear into left field.

Our team's up by four in the seventh inning. It's our first game of the season and so far my "ass backwards" coaching methods are not costing us the game, like Negan thought. He hates losing, but I think he secretly, deep down was hoping I'd be proven unfit to be head coach in the first game, even if it meant losing.

I peer into the cheering crowd behind us. They're mostly the parents and a few friends of the players, since this an away game. Lourdes came, so she could watch Jolyon for me, but really I think it was because she didn't want to go home.

"Don't fucking stop; go, go, go!" Negan shouts, prompting the girl who took second to run to third while she still as a chance. "Good hustle!"

I wave to Jolyon on the bleachers, before turning back. "Alright, we've got three more girls to go."

"Yeah, lucky us their starting pitcher is out."

"Lucky?" I put my hands on my hips. "You mean good thing we've got such an awesome coach."

"Now, now, praises aren't necessary."

I chuckle. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'd like a little recognition."

"If we win, maybe I'll take you out for ice cream."

"Fuck you."

"That's no way to talk to your ride home."

"Why did I know you were gonna say something like that?"

Negan chuckles, focusing back on the game. "Alright, Ramos, get out there!"

Surprise, surprise, we win the game about fifteen minutes later. The game ended five to eleven and there's no fucking way I'm letting him take full credit for this victory. I was the one who corrected all the new players' stances, since Negan was too busy playing catch with Jolyon.

"Nice game, coach." Lourdes smiles as she and Jolyon walk hand in hand.

"Thanks."

"Good job, Mom!"

"Aw, thanks, baby," I put my cap on his head, "You ready to head home?"

"Can we get McDonald's on the way home? Negan said we could!"

"If Negan's paying, then sure."

"You rode together?" Lourdes asks.

"Yeah, we didn't need to use the bus, since the girls got rides from their parents," I tell her, "Negan thought it'd be better if we rode together, since he knew where the school was."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure he did." She looks behind me and I assume it's because he's coming over, since I can hear his voice gaining. "Good job assisting the coach."

"Aw, that's sweet of you, but I think Pip could have done a better job."

I scoff, "She was talking about you, jackass."

"Are we gonna get McDonald's on the way home?" Jolyon asks him.

"Ask your mother."

He looks up at me. "Mom?"

I chuckle. "Oh, alright, don't twist my arm."

"I wish you would've told me you were all riding together," Lourdes folds her jean jacket across herself, "I would've tagged along."

"Oh, well, I..." I get momentarily distracted by Negan stepping to the side with his phone, "I didn't know until last minute and you had already gone home to change."

"No worries," She yawns, "Well, I better get going. Simon's been texting me throughout the entire game."

"He didn't know you'd be a few hours?"

"Oh, well, it's my fault, I told him I was only staying for half," She lightly smiles, "He said he was going to bring dinner home, so I've kept him waiting long enough."

"Okay," I nod my head, though I'm a little concerned, "Um, see ya tomorrow...Or Monday, since I guess tomorrow's an in-service day."

"Alright, bye," She musses Jolyon's head, "Bye, Jol."

"Bye."

"Tell Negan I said bye."

"Uh, okay."

Lourdes waves and then treads off to the parking lot. Negan comes back almost immediately after she goes.

"What? She doesn't want a McFlurry?"

I snort, fishing for my keys. "Apparently, Simon's been waiting for her."

"Huh, he didn't strike me as the kind of guy who waits up."

"With dinner."

Negan huffs. "No fucking way that guy made dinner for her."

"I'm pretty sure she said takeout."

He exhales, "Well, to each their own, I guess." He puts his arm around. "Let's roll, dear."

I elbow him. "Cut it out!"

Negan laughs throatily. "What's the matter? You afraid the kids might see us?"

"Yes, that's exactly it and you know it," The three of us start to walk to the parking lot, "Who'd you call just now?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

I take Jolyon's hand. "You let her know you're on your way home?"

"Yep."

"Too bad she didn't come tonight," I smirk, "I would have loved to have out coached you in front of your wife."

"When exactly did you fucking out coach me?"

"Those girls followed what I said during practice and it worked; admit it."

"I'm not gonna admit a damn thing to you," He chuckles, "Especially since I don't recall you coaching them on shit."

"That's because you were playing catch with Jol."

"Until I hear a personal praise about you from one the players, I can't give you credit for anything."

"You're such a dick," I nudge him, "So, what time's your curfew?"

"Whenever the fuck I get in."

"Aw, that's adorable, but I'm serious. What time is she expecting you?"

"Lu's not home."

I knit my brows. "Where's she at?"

"At her folks' house," He informs me, "She felt bad that she went to that conference during spring break, so she took a couple days off to go up and see 'em."

"Oh, nice."

"Yeah, plus, she's been getting these migraines for the last couple months, so I told her she needed to take things easy."

"Has she seen the doctor?"

"Nah, what for? It's only migraines; she gives 'em to herself because she works too hard and frets over every little fuckin' thing that hits her desk."

I nod. "So, you're on your own for the next few days?"

"Yep."

"She's not gonna find you dead on your exercise wheel, is she?"

Negan chuckles. "No, she left me out enough pellets and filled my water bottle."

I laugh. "Good, because I'd be awfully sad to hear that she had to bury you in the herb garden."

"You'd miss me, huh?"

"I'd miss parts of you."

Negan puts his arm around me briefly to kiss my temple. "My award winning personality."

"Out of respect for my young son, I'm gonna say yes."

He devilishly snickers. "Give me the keys."

"I'll drive."

"You gotta lead foot, I don't fuckin' think so."

"I thought you liked to get places faster?"

"I do, but I like to get there alive."

"You're one to talk," I roll my eyes, "Here, you jerk."

"Is that anyway to talk to the man who's buying your family dinner?"

"Fast food, what a class act."

"Hey, upon your kid's request."

I smile. "Thank you."

"That's more fuckin' like it."

"Mom, what day is it?"

"It's Thursday, babe."

Jolyon gasps. "I was supposed to call Dad!"

"What?"

"I said I would call him after my swim lesson."

"Your swim lesson with last night."

"I know, but I said I would, Mom," He whines, "I have to call him!"

"Okay, okay, hold your horses," I pull out my phone from my purse, "Here, it's ringing."

"You know," Negan leans over, while he's sure the kid's distracted, "It'll be pretty late by time we get back to the school."

"You think so?"

"I know so," He wraps his arm around my shoulders, "Being the case and all, it might just be easier if we hit Mickey D's and then just drove on back your place."

A smile begins to form on my face. "You wanna spend the night?"

"Because of the hour," Negan tells me, "And hey, maybe you lose your keys and we take our time finding them."

"Oh," I nod my head, playing along, "Because it's not like you've got someplace else to be."

"My books are open."

I bite my lip. "Well, my couch is pretty comfortable."

Negan laughs. "Shut your mouth."

 **...**

I shift a little in my sleep, furrowing my brows at what I half hear. The wind has been whipping around all night long, which has made something outside hit against the house.

Negan moves against me. "What the fuck?"

I open my eyes as I quickly become aware that there's another noise outside, aside from what I'm now thinking is the door to my backyard come unlatched. _Boom-boom-boom!_

I get out of bed and out of my room. Someone's knocking on the door. I check the clock on the wall; it's three in the morning. "Fucking who the fuck?"

I peek around the corner, since my door has one of those oval windows and I don't want whoever's at the door to see me, until I know who it is. I puzzle my brows further as I squint for better detail. Is that...? He knocks again.

"Who the fuck's knocking?" Negan shuffles into the hall, rubbing his eye.

"Uh, my neighbor," I put my hand on his chest to stop him, "Go back to bed, I'll get it."

"Uh, no, you don't answer your fucking door at three in the goddamn morning."

"It's my neighbor," I lie again, "It'll just be a minute. It could be important, go back to bed." I go to the door by time he knocks again.

"I'll wait."

"No," I point behind me, "Go, it's fine." I open the door enough for me to slide out. Jesus, it's fucking windy. I move the whirlwind of hair that's just been blown in my face. "Are you insane?"

"I need to talk to you."

I shush him, before grabbing his arm to take out of sight from the door window. "You need to go home."

"Just give me a minute, Pippa."

"It's three in the fucking morning!" I snap at him, walking down the steps of my porch, so he'll follow me to his car. "This is hardly an appropriate time to spare a minute." I fold my arms as goose bumps rise on my flesh.

"I know, but I was on my way home from a haul and I...look, it can't wait. I haven't stopped thinking about it and I need to get it off my chest."

I sigh, frustrated. "Get what off your chest, Dwight?"

"I...don't want you to see that other guy."

I turn around and look at him, incredulous. "Pardon me?"

"I don't want you to see that guy from your work anymore." He repeats, wringing his fingers, itching for a cigarette.

"...Uh, are you joking me right now?"

"No, I'm not."

"Are you drunk, or- or sleep deprived?"

He sighs. "No, Pip."

"Trucker speed?"

"Would you cut it out?" He bites. "I'm being serious."

I scoff, chuckling in disbelief. "Well, excuse me for thinking that this late night visit was brought on by some bonkers reason."

"It's important."

"No, it's not happening," I retort with my hands on my hips, "You can't just come to my house in the middle of the night, demanding that I not see anyone. We're not together."

"I know, you just..." He puts his hand over his eyes, "You just gotta give me some time."

I stand there in the harsh wind, staring. "What?"

Dwight runs hand down his face, sighing. "I just need some time, alright?"

"Time?" I shake my head, confounded. "Time for what? What are you talking about?"

"I-I just need some time to think," He stammers, "I have to figure some things out."

"Figure things...Dwight, what are you talking about?"

Dwight looks at me and it's as if the words are there on the tip of his tongue, but he can't say them.

I furrow my brows. "What..." I step closer, "What are you telling me?"

He licks his lips. "I, um, I just...I love you, Pippa, and I want to be with you, I just- I need to sort it all out before I can."

"Sort it out?" I hold my elbows. "Sort what out? D, you're not making any-"

He pulls us together and passionately crashes his lips on mine. My hand touches his arm, half-pushing against him. He ends the kiss, breathlessly looking down at me. "Just give me some time, Pippa."

"Dwight, I'm mov-"

"I don't want to lose you again," He interrupts me, "It was my fault we broke up before. I...I stopped coming over and lied about why I couldn't hang out after school, because I-I couldn't deal with it, I didn't know how and I've spent fourteen years regretting it."

I peer up at him with my mouth open, speechless.

"But you're the one, Pippa," Dwight swallows, "You always have been. I'm sorry I forgot that and that it took me this long to remember."

"Dwight..." Emotions tighten the muscles in my throat, "Sherry?" Is all I can say.

He looks over me, exhaling heavily. "I just...I just need some time to sort it all out."

"You...you-"

Dwight lays his lips on mine again. "Just give me some time, please. I promise I'll make it all up to you."

I remain where I stand, mutely floored. Dwight walks to his truck, which makes my body mechanically follow the direction he's going. He looks over at me once more, before opening the door and getting into his truck. I watch like a zombie as he turns his car around and drives off down the road, until even his tail lights disappear.

I rub my cold arm once the trance is broken, scuffing back to the house. The wind pulls the door shut as soon as I go to close it when I'm inside. It causes a rumble, but not loud enough to wake anyone.

"What'd your neighbor want?"

I look into my kitchen and see Negan leaning against the counter. "Um, his dog got spooked by the wind and got out of the backyard. He was wondering if I had heard any barking, or seen him."

"Uh-huh," Negan's tongue feels the inside of his cheek, "Why was he in a truck?"

"Because he drove here," I go to the sink, "Aside from that house across the street a little ways, my neighbors are spaced out."

"I see," He replies, before strolling towards the archway to go back to bed, "You know, I always thought the appropriate amount of neighborly friendliness was shaking hands, but maybe you people do shit differently here."

I pause from drinking my water. "You saw that?"

He turns in between the kitchen and the hall, looking over at me with mild disappointment. "I was standing by the window, because you're a dumbass who goes outside at this hour to strange knocks on the door."

"I didn't kiss him," I meekly defend myself, "He kissed me."

"You didn't pull away either."

I sigh, "Negan, I-"

"Don't bother, Pippa," He cuts me offs, heading back down the hall, "It's none of my fucking business."

I run my hand through my hair, pissed at myself. I pad out of the kitchen and down the hall. I quietly check on Jolyon and then go back to my bedroom.

Negan's lying on his side with his arm over the blankets. I crawl back into bed, slipping under. I then inch myself close to him, until I'm close enough to put my arm around him.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"You sound mad."

Negan sighs. "Yes, Pippa, I'm fucking mad, but I can't say dick about it."

"Why not?"

"You know why not," He challenges, "So, don't fuckin' ask just for the sake of hearing me say it and sound like a fucking hypocrite."

I bite my lip. "That wasn't my neighbor."

"Yeah, I guessed that."

"That was my ex-boyfriend."

"I guessed that too," Negan dryly retorts, "Not sure I know what the appeal is. Seemed a little scrawny to me."

I smile. "Not where it counts."

"Doubt it." He scoffs.

"Stop it," I snicker under my breath, "Don't be jealous."

"I'm not fucking jealous."

I rest my head on my hand, while aimlessly fiddling with his hair. "Well, you shouldn't be insecure either."

"Grow the fuck up."

I grin a little. "Fragile masculinity is a turn off."

"So are your smelly ass pits."

My fingers continue to mess with his hair. "Do you still love me?"

"Let me get back to you in the morning."

I hold him tight, kissing his bare shoulder. "Oh, come, Negan. It's not like I invited him over. He just showed up."

"What the hell he did want this late?" He irritably inquires. "Aside from the obvious."

"...Just the obvious."

"Really?" Negan replies, half-skeptical.

"Yeah, but I told him he had to leave," I kiss his virile skin again, "I'm moving on." I rest my head on his pillow. "I love you."

The door creaks. "Mom?"

I close my eyes, before sitting up. "Yeah, honey?"

"There's a noise outside." Jolyon croaks.

"I know, it's just the door to the backyard," I tell him, "It's nothing to be afraid of."

"Can I sleep in your bed with you?"

"Uh..." I look over at Negan, "Yeah, sure, baby." I scooch away from Negan, closest to my side of the bed. "Come here."

Jolyon climbs into my bed and I snuggle next to him, pulling the blankets up. "Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"When's swim class again?"

"Not until next Wednesday."

"Can we go to the river to practice?"

"Maybe," I pat his hand that's taken mine, "We'll talk about in the morning, okay?"

"Because it's still nighttime?"

"Yes."

"Is Negan asleep?"

"Yeah, babe, so let's not wake him by talking."

"Okay...just one more question."

I sigh, "What?"

"Can I have pop tarts for breakfast tomorrow?"

"You most certainly can not," Negan answers out of nowhere, "What sort of breakfast is that, huh?"

Jolyon rolls until he's facing me and rises a little as if to look at Negan. "I like pop tarts."

The bed behind me moves. "Yeah, well, they're garbage."

"No, you're garbage!" Jolyon laughs.

"Jolyon!" I chuckle.

Negan laughs with us. "Nice comeback, you little shit."

"Hey!" Jolyon tries not to giggle.

"How about I whip you up a couple pancakes tomorrow morning instead of that boxed shit with sprinkles?"

"Can you put chocolate chips in them?" Jolyon asks. "We have those here."

"I think that can be arranged."

"Okay." Jolyon hugs me, laying his head on my arm. "Night, Mom."

"Night, Jol."

"Love you."

"I love you, too."

"Night, Negan."

"Night, kid," Negan says, "Night, Mom."

I smile. "Goodnight, Negan."

"Aren't you gonna say you love me?" I feel his hand slide under my camisole and around my tummy.

I breathe in. "I love you."

His mouth lightly kisses my shoulder. "I love you, too."

 **...**

"Careful, Jol!" I call out from the picnic blanket. I cautiously watch him as he walks along the river, looking for shells, which I don't have the heart to tell him will be a fruitless search.

"What are you afraid he's gonna fall in?"

"Call me paranoid, but yes."

Negan huffs, amused. "Baby, the water's not even two centimeters where he's standing."

I bring my sunglasses up onto my head. "Well...yeah," I look back at him, "Did you just call me baby? Like...a term of endearment?"

"I did," He smiles, leaning on his elbow, "You like that?"

I smile, reclining briefly to peck him on the lips. "I do. It's winning points."

"How many do I have to get to win a prize?"

"Well, you can cash in now for something quick and dirty, or you can save up for something big and worth it."

"Who ever said quick and dirty wasn't worth it?"

I laugh, sipping from my can of root beer. "What time's Lucille getting back?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

I nod my head. "So, we've only got today and tonight."

"Well, I'm gonna need you to drive me back to the school, where my car's parked, so 'til Saturday morning."

"Can't you just take a cab?"

"Can't you just go fuck yourself?"

I lay back, so I'm parallel to him. "If I did that, then what the hell are you good for?"

Negan grins, before kissing me. "God, I love you."

"I love _you_."

His eyes endearingly look me over. "You're beautiful."

I smile at him. "Flattery will only get you a lazy hand job."

He laughs. "Flattery still got you to touch it."

I give him a quick kiss and then sit back up. "What do you like on your sandwich?"

"You, slathered in-"

"Any condiment you can name is gonna make me hurl, you freak."

"Mom, look!" Jolyon runs over with a something in his hand. "Look, what I found?"

"Let me see," I peer into his hand, "Oh, what a pretty rock."

Jolyon furrows his brows. "No, Mom, it's a shell!"

I inspect the flat, pinkish gray rock. "O-oh, I see that now."

"Can I take it home?"

"Sure."

"Okay, here, hold it for me," He delicately sets it in the palm of my hand, "I'm gonna go look for more."

"Okay, but not too many!" I tell him as he runs off. "Save some for the other kids."

Negan chuckles. "Damn, he's cute as fuck."

I put the rock down on the blanket. "Yeah, he's a keeper."

"Hey, you know what a little birdie told me?"

"No, what?"

"That you've got a birthday comin' up?"

I look over at him. "What?"

"In one week...on the fourth."

"Who told you that?"

"A little birdie."

"Does this birdie have a name?"

"She does have a name, but her nickname for privacy's sake is Birdie."

I scoff. "Lourdes?"

"No, Lucille."

I cock my brow. "How the hell does Lucille know?"

"Her computer sends her reminders of literally every fucking person who works in the school district. Even people she's never fuckin' met."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "The old superintendent had it set up that way and she never figured out how to undo it."

I nod. "So, are you gonna give me a birthday card?"

"I'm gonna give you something?"

"Just make sure you give me the gift receipt."

Negan snickers. "Thirty-two, huh?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal."

"This the first birthday you'll be sober in awhile?"

"Yeah..."

"You gonna be okay?"

"My ex-boyfriend broke up with me on my eighteenth birthday."

"Damn, that's harsh."

I spread a little mustard on Jolyon's sandwich bread. "Let's not talk about him."

"Alright, so what are you gonna do then?"

"Go to work, come home, and then probably hang with Jolyon and maybe my parents."

"Fun."

"Cut the sass."

"Excuse me...excuse me?"

The two us look up at the lady to the right. "Yes?"

"Hi, sorry to bother you," She smiles, "I was just wondering, if you had some sunscreen we could borrow. I thought I packed it, but I must have forgot."

"Oh, yeah," I fish the spray can out of my picnic basket, "Here you go."

"Thanks, I'll bring it right back."

I watch her walk over to her quaint little family.

"She wants me."

I scoff. "Wants you off this beach for public indecency. Check your pants, horndog."

He jokingly crosses his leg over the other. "You know, maybe we could do something for your birthday."

I roll my eyes at him. "Sorry, buddy, but you nailing me on your desk over pizza isn't exactly a special occasion."

"How about over cake?"

A chuckle escapes me, but I quickly gain control as I spy the lady coming back over.

"Thanks so much!"

"No problem." I offer her a polite smile.

She looks towards the river. "Is that your little boy over there?"

"Yeah, it is."

The woman nods her head. "He's adorable."

"Thanks."

"No surprise," She smiles at the both of us, "He clearly takes after the two of you."

I smile lessens.

"Well, I'll leave you alone," She waves, "Thanks again."

I observe her returning to her family again.

"I think she wants both of us."

"Shut up."

"Maybe her husband's a bland fuck."

I cut Jolyon's sandwich the way he likes it. "So, she's lookin' for a three-way with a couple of strangers?"

"Maybe."

"In your fuckin' dreams," I motion Jol over, "You know, that's the second time someone thought we were a family."

"Oh, yeah?"

I glance back at him. "Yeah."

Negan looks back, before his eyes blink down at nothing. I look away, too. It's best not to think about what will never be and ruin what is.

"Did you cut it into triangles?"

I turn back to Jolyon. "Of course, I did."

"Thank you." Jolyon takes his plate and sits down next to me. "Can we go swimming later?"

"Sure, babe."

He looks behind us. "Do you wanna go swimming, too?"

"I don't have a swimsuit, kid."

"Oh, that's too bad," Jol rests his head on my shoulder as he eats, "Mom, can your feet touch the bottom?"

"Yeah."

"You're taller?"

"Yes, I'm taller than the water."

"But not as tall as Negan."

"No," I snicker, "Not as tall as Negan."

"He's probably more taller than the river."

"Probably." I set Negan's sandwich down next to him and then start mine.

"He's the tallest person I've ever seen."

Negan chuckles before he bites into his sandwich, which makes me smile back at him. When our eyes meet and it's clear again. It's clear that whatever uncomfortable reality floats in the air on this beach and in our future together has settled. That we'll be alright, for now anyway.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **CLTex: Hooray, they finally said it! Negan and Pippa are offical. Well, as official as two people having an affair can be anyway, lol. And yeah, I imagine Lourdes' trip wasn't as fun with Negan and Pippa all smitten with each other.**

 **Guest: I agree, I don't think Pippa will be content with where she stands for very long either. Lucille's fate will follow canon, but that doesn't necessarily mean that Pip will have a chance. Negan will be too preoccupied, and rightfully so. As for Nanda, she may not have said something yet, but you never know...**

 **PruRose: You are always too kind! I'm glad you love my writing. And as for when the ZA begins, I haven't quite settled on a direction for Pippa and Negan, but that's certainly within the realm of possibility. I think they're a cool couple, too. They blend well.**

 **Muffin35: I know, I'm happy they finally got around to admitting how they really feel about each other and, yes, there is much heartbreak and drama to be had now that's out in the air.**

 **MoorishWoe: I agree, I also love where they're at. I haven't addressed what Pippa would hypothetically look like, but I like Izy Bizu for Pippa.**


	40. Chapter 40

"Wanna see?"

"Sure, let's see it."

Jolyon lifts up his shirt sleeve to reveal a bright, neon green band-aid. "See?"

"Can I peel it back?"

Jol considers it. "Um, okay, but just real quick."

Negan pulls back one side of the band-aid. "Yep, that's quite the doozy."

"Yeah, it hurt a lot," Jolyon says, "But I didn't cry, or anything."

"Atta boy," Negan grins, lifting his hand, "Get me five."

I smile as I grade some papers on the bleachers, while the players run laps on the track. Jolyon had a doctor's appointment today after school, which was a half-day because of the statewide testing going on. Negan still insisted practice go on at three, so we all had to come back. Not that Jolyon cared at all; he had to get two shots, so he'll be telling all about it to whomever will listen, especially Negan.

"Mom said I can take the band-aid off, but I better keep it on," Jolyon continues, "Just in case it starts to bleed."

"It's not gonna bleed, baby."

"There's blood on the white part."

"That's just from when they first put it on."

He looks at the spec of blood on his band-aid, thinking about it. I don't know if it's from a real fear of bleeding, or more the fact that he loves band- aids and just wants to keep it on.

"But you can keep it on, if you want." I say.

"Okay."

Negan blows the whistle around his neck. "Five minutes, fifteen seconds! Let's move our asses, ladies!"

I chuckle, looking back at him. "Cut 'em some slack, Coach. It's ninety-three degrees out."

He grins from where he's reclined on the bleachers. "If they want some water, then all they have to do is hurry the fuck up."

"If they get heat stroke, the school's liable."

"You sound like Lucille."

"Thank you," I look out towards the track, "Let's call it, send 'em home."

"Why?"

"Because it's hot."

"They're fine," He argues, "We've got two more hours to go."

"Yeah, but if we cut 'em loose early, then we've got two hours to be alone together."

"In the parking lot?"

"Or..."

Negan squints, smiling. "Or what?"

I shrug. "Or we could we take Jolyon for ice cream."

That gains Jolyon's attention with a gasp.

Negan looks me over. "Ice cream?"

"Yeah," I nod, "It's not like we can do _other_ things. And Jolyon was very brave at the doctor's today, right, babe?"

"Yeah, I want to go for ice cream!"

Negan snickers, putting his whistle up to his lips again. "Alright! Bring it in!"

 **...**

"Mom, can I have a taste of yours?"

I scoop some of my oatmeal cookie ice cream onto my plastic spoon and offer it to him. "Here."

Jolyon takes a bite. "Mm, that flavors pretty good."

"Yeah."

"Do you want some of mine?" He holds his cup of bubblegum flavored ice cream with added sprinkles.

"No, but thanks for offering."

The three of us sit in Negan's car in the parking lot of the school, after we ran to the ice cream parlor downtown. The windows are rolled down, so the late day breeze will flow through.

"What kind did you get, Negan?" Jolyon asks.

"Coffee." Negan answers, staring down at his phone. "Wanna taste?"

"Yes, please."

Negan holds up his cup, so Jolyon can dip his spoon in; something I wouldn't recommend, considering Jolyon's spoon is a little slobbery, but he doesn't seem notice.

Jolyon puts his spoon back in his mouth. "Mm, that really does taste like coffee."

I laugh, "Does it?" I glance over Negan's way. "You need to go home?"

His eyes remain furrowed at the phone. "No."

"Is she working late?"

He shakes his head. "It's not Lu, it's not even a text message. It's a missed call."

"Oh, who from?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He chuckles, finally flickering his eyes up to mine.

I bite my lip. "Is it Lourdes?"

"Why the fuck would it be Lourdes?"

"Because she's...been sort of nice to you lately," I retort, feeling a little stupid for feeling a wee bit of jealousy, "You know, not rolling her eyes, or making snotty comments?"

"Oh. My. Goodness!" Negan grins wide. "I do believe you're jealous."

I roll my eyes, "You wish."

He smirks. "It's my mom."

I pause just before sticking my spoon in my mouth. "What?"

"Yeah, she probably wants to know how I'm doing."

I glance down at the phone. "Are you gonna call her back?"

"Not right now," Negan takes a spoonful of ice cream, "Maybe later."

"Maybe?"

"Yeah."

I swirl my spoon in my cup. "You don't really see them much, huh? Your parents?"

"No, not really."

"How come?"

Negan shrugs. "They live four hours away...long drive."

"Yeah, but so do Lucille's parents and you see-"

"Let's just drop it, Pippa, alright?"

I stare for a moment, before nodding. "Okay, sorry."

"Mommy, I found a white sprinkle!" Jolyon whines, "You said there weren't any!"

I reach over the seat and pluck the white sprinkle off the mound of ice cream. "There."

"Thank you."

"All better?"

"All better." Jolyon goes back to eating, content.

I smile, putting a loving hand on his face. "I love you." I catch Negan staring, smiling, and so I smile back at him.

He leans over my way and gives me a kiss.

"I don't wanna sound ungrateful, but what was that for?"

"You're a good mother."

"I picked a white sprinkle off my son's ice cream, because he's got some weird hang up about white and orange sprinkles," I smile, "All in a day's work."

Negan chuckles, poking around his cup, before he exhales. "...My folks didn't exactly have that sort of attitude."

My smile lessens a little, curious. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, they were gone a lot," Negan clears his throat, "My old man sold used cars and never wanted to pass on the chance to make a deal, so he worked nearly seven days a week and my mom worked at a plant nursery in the next town over, so...I was on my own most of the time."

I mildly furrow my brows. "You mean you took care of yourself?"

"Just until my folks got home," Negan tells me, "Our neighbor was right next door."

I nod my head. "Didn't you ever feel lonely?"

"Nah, sometimes it was better being by myself than having my dad home."

"How come?"

"Because he was a real asshole, that's why," He looks down at his melting ice cream, "All he ever did was yell and tell me I needed to do better in school and sports, because he wouldn't stand to have a loser for a son."

"You're not a loser, Negan." Jolyon chimes in.

Negan laughs, "Thanks, kid."

"What about your mom?" I ask him. "Didn't she ever stick up for you?"

Negan glances out the window. "No, she always told me just to go out and play, so she could get into the wine and drink while she soaked in the tub before she started dinner."

I twist the mouth to the side. "Is that why you wanted to help me get sober? You were looking out for Jol?"

"I was looking out for the both of you."

I kiss him. "I love you."

"How could you not?"

I cackle, "Oh, boy, does that explain a lot."

"What the fuck are you talking about, you sexy asshole?"

"It explains why you're an asshole who acts like a big child," I explain with a little smirk, "And why you're such a hard ass on your students."

"Hey, I'm nothing like that miserable prick," Negan defends with a chuckle, "All I'm trying to do is make sure those little assholes don't turn into bigger assholes."

I snort, "Like you?"

"Shut the fuck up," Negan plants a kiss on my lips, "You know what I mean. I had garbage parents, so for a while, I too was garbage until I wisened up and bettered myself."

I smile endearingly. "You're still kind of garbage."

He smiles back. "That fight I got into that got me barred from going to prom? It was because some kid told an ass load of people my mom got a DUI right outside his house."

"Aw, you were defending her honor, you momma's boy?"

"You're one to fucking talk," Negan laughs, "Your kid chewed me out in the hospital."

I laugh, looking down at my ice cream. "Shit, it's melted."

"Just drink it, Mom." Jolyon suggests.

"Thanks, babe."

Negan smiles at Jolyon. "Hey, kid, why don't you toss these in the garbage can over there?"

"By myself?"

"Sure, we can see you from here."

Jolyon looks at me. "Can I, Mom?"

"If you think you can handle it."

"Yeah, I can!" Jolyon opens the door. "Hand me your garbage."

I hand him both Negan and I's cups. "Alright, to the garbage and right back."

"Okay, I'll be fast!"

"Actually, you better walk, so you don't spill it." Negan instructs.

"Okay." Jolyon heads off on his task.

Negan's hand touches my leg. "We've got maybe two minutes."

I take his hand. "What the hell do you think we can do in two minutes?"

"Suck face a little."

I giggle, "Well, let's not waste any time."

Negan moves closer, putting his other hand on my face as he kisses me. "I love you."

"How could you not?" I joke.

He smiles into the next kiss. "Come to my office after testing gets out."

I lock my arms around him. "I told you we can't."

"Oh, come on, baby," Negan's breath grazes my neck, "We're not gonna get caught again. We'll shut the blinds and lock the door. Be real quiet."

I sigh through a good feeling between my legs. "Real quiet, huh?"

"Yeah," His hand snakes up my thigh to the hem of my shorts, "Take things nice and slow."

I passionately kiss his mouth, "That does sound tempting."

"So, then let's do it."

I nod my head, while continuing to make out with him. "Okay."

"That's my girl."

"Are you two having sex?"

We break apart at the sound of Jolyon's voice. I look over to see him standing right outside. "Wow, you were fast."

"Were you having sex?" Jolyon asks again as I open the car door.

"Close enough." Negan murmurs.

I nudge him with my elbow. "No, we were not having sex."

"What were you doing?"

"We were just kissing."

"Oh, okay."

I glance back to Negan. "I guess we better go."

"Yeah," He nods, "Lucille's gonna be expecting me soon."

"Thanks for the ice cream."

"You mean thanks for paying, because you left your wallet at home?"

I shrug. "I was running late this morning. I forgot I had it out to pay for the pizza." I lean over and peck his cheek. "I'll pay you back."

"Yes, you will, you broke ass bitch."

"When can we go to those cages?" Jolyon inquires of Negan.

"The batting cages?" Negan chuckles, "How about Wednesday night? Lucille's going to the movies with some friends."

"Jol's got swim lessons."

"Skip 'em."

"No, I paid for the class."

"Well, what time does it get over?"

"Six."

"Oh, perfect, Lucille's not leaving until six-thirty, so just head up this way afterwards."

"How long do you think she'll be out?"

"Two, three hours."

I bite my lip. "I don't know."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"Yeah, Mom!" Jolyon pleads.

I roll my eyes, giving in. "Alright, fine!"

"Yay!"

 **...**

I knew things were going just a little too good for me. My fucking stove quit on me and my landlord said he won't replace it, if a repair guy can come out and fix. So, I'm without a stove for two days, until then. I got so damn frustrated, that I just decided to take Jolyon out to eat. I know he wants to go to Lorelei's, but lately every time we've gone there, we've run into a certain, former fair-haired cohort of mine and his somewhat two-faced wife.

There's a good Mexican place that about a half mile from there, so I take him there instead. Aside from the mild complaint that they didn't serve chicken nuggets like at McDonald's, or pancakes and hash browns like at Lorelei's, Jolyon was fine with it. I order him a chicken quesadilla with a side of rice and beans and then pulled out a coloring book and some crayon halves for him to keep busy with while we wait, although I think the chips and salsa are his main focus.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"How come Negan says he loves you?"

I fiddle with the straw sticking out of my drink. "Um, because he does."

Jolyon dips a chip in the salsa, not really scooping any of it. "He does?"

"Yeah."

"He loves you?"

"Mhm."

He double dips. "Do you love him, too?"

"I do."

Jolyon's brows begin to puzzle. "How can he love you when he already has a wife?"

Ouch, Jolyon. I bite the corner of my lip. "Well, he loves me in a different way than his wife."

"What kind of way?"

"The way people love their friends." I casually explain, even though it sort makes me feel queasy.

"Like how we love Lourdes?"

I smile, "Yeah, like we love Lourdes."

"But not her boyfriend," Jolyon dunks another chip, "He's mean. He was yelling really loud at Lourdes on the phone."

I furrow my brows. "When?"

"The other day," He vaguely answers, "When I was with her in her classroom. She was being quiet, but he was yelling."

I nod, "What was he saying?"

Jolyon shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, but it made Lourdes sad."

"Oh, how do you know?"

"Because she was frowning," Jolyon informs me, while coloring, "And when she hung up, she asked me to bring her a tissue."

I sigh through my nose. "Oh, okay."

"I don't like him."

"Yeah, me neither."

Is it stupid of me to say that while I knew Simon was an asshole, that I'm actually a little surprised? I mean, I know he's sort of a dick to her, but I assumed he had some redeeming qualities about him. Like when he took her away for the holidays, or when he kicked her dad's ass for hitting her, if you consider that a redeeming quality. And the way he danced with her at the cantina and the holiday party was rather in a way that would make me think he felt something for her...

The waitress brings our order over to the table and Jolyon asks for more chips. I poke at my chimichanga, still thinking about Lourdes.

"Hey, Mom, look!"

I look up and see Jolyon pointing behind me, so I turn. "Oh, you've got to fucking kidding me." I curse below my breath.

"It's Sherry!"

"Yeah, I see that."

Sherry and another woman come into the restaurant, dressed in business casual work clothes.

"Maybe she'll want to sit with us."

"I think she's with a friend, baby, so let's not bother them, okay?"

"Oh, okay."

I try to look inconspicuous, but Jolyon's sitting in a booster seat, facing the entrance, so I don't know how easy that'll be. A hostess walks by with two menus and my palms get a little sweaty.

"Hi!" Jolyon waves. Goddamn it.

"Well, hello!"

Goddamn it all to motherfucking hell.

"Long time, no see!"

I glance up and smile. "Hey, yeah, it's been a while. How are you?"

"Good, good," Sherry tells me with a smile, "You?"

"No complaints." Except for the fact that your husband came to my house in the middle of the night last Friday.

"Good," Sherry looks to her left, "Oh, this is Joan. We work together at the bank. Joan, this is Pippa. We cheered together in high school." Well, that and your husband technically fathered my first child.

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I smile, "Where's Dwight?"

"At home," Sherry tells me, "It's sort of a girls night."

"Oh, fun."

"Yeah...well, it was good seeing you."

I nod, "Yeah."

The two of them go to the table where the hostess put their menus. Sherry sits so that her back's facing me, thank god.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Does Dwight love you, too?"

I peer up from my food. "Dwight?"

"Yeah, does he love you like Negan does?" Jolyon clarifies, "Like we love Lourdes?"

"Um...I think so," I stab my fork into my meal, "Hey, how was school today?"

Jolyon and I eat our food, chatting about the things he did at school and maybe about getting Pip a climbing tree. Sherry and her friend order margaritas and then step outside after they order their food. I politely smile as they pass, but I secretly want to cringe. We're ready to go shortly afterwards, so I grab Jolyon's to-go box and leave quietly.

"Can we get ice cream?"

"We just had ice cream this afternoon," I laugh as I load him up in the car, "With Negan, remember?"

"Yeah, but it's summer," Jolyon says, "You're supposed to eat a lot of ice cream in the summer."

I chuckle, kissing him on the cheek. "Nice try, punk, but it's still spring."

"Aw, man!"

"Yeah, yeah." I close the door and walk around to the other side, fishing around for my keys.

"Well, what did you say?"

I stop when I hear a voice behind me.

"I told him that he needed to stop going over to his mother's house every time we get into it." Sherry's voice replies. A plume of smoke caresses the air in the little alley between the restaurant and the closed bagel shop next to it. "We work together. I mean, she hasn't ever brought it up, unless I do first, but still. And it's not fair that he thinks she should side with him, just because she's his mother."

"What does she think about all of it?"

"You know Caroline, she's willing to offer advice when asked, but she thinks we should figure things out on our own," Sherry scoffs, "But it's not like I can tell her _everything_. I don't want her to take it back to Dwight."

"You mean that you're not having sex?"

I wince, continuing to the driver's side.

"Yeah...," Sherry sighs, "I'm at wit's end. We've had similar problems in the past, but we've always been able to reconcile."

"Do you think you might be headed towards the cliff?"

I freeze where I am with curiosity and dread.

"No, no, of course not," Sherry denies, "We're just having a rough patch is all. I'm sure Dwight will come around and apologize; he's just being stubborn this time."

"What if he doesn't feel like he's done anything wrong?"

"That's never stopped him before. D always wants to settle things, he doesn't like to stay angry."

The other lady chuckles. "Well, maybe he's finally growing a backbone. Too bad, Sher."

Sherry stifles a laugh and it sort of pisses me off. "Stop it!"

Her friend exhales. "I wouldn't worry; you've been together since high school, you'll be fine."

I stare at the alley, territorial.

"We actually started dating after we graduated," Sherry corrects her, "He was dating someone else in high school."

"Oh, well, we all make mistakes." They both laugh. Am I supposed to be the mistake?

"Shh!" Sherry chuckles, "She's in the restaurant!"

"She is? Wait...you mean that woman with her kid you introduced me to?"

"Yes, so hush up."

"Well, you may not have been the first girl he dated, but you're certainly the best." That bitch unfairly judges.

"She's nice," Sherry blandly says, "She's had a tough go of things, I guess she sort of peaked in high school."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in school she was always such a go-getter and everyone liked her," She explains, "But now I guess she's just an alcoholic single mom. I feel sorry for her."

"Wow, sounds like D dodged a bullet."

I glide my tongue along my teeth. Why am I even still here? It's just making me mad.

"Yeah, I guess," Sherry agrees, exhaling, "Dwight's such a nice guy, god, he'd probably spend all his life holding her hair while she throws up."

"Mom!" Jolyon calls me from inside the car.

"Okay." I mouth, putting my hand on the handle.

"Well, see? Dwight's lucky to have someone stable and level-headed like you."

"Yeah...I'm not gonna say I can't be a real bitch at times, but I guess he could've done worse. I mean, I like Pippa, but she's kind of a mess."

"And what the fuck kind of name is Pippa? Is she a labradoodle?"

I don't know why that set me off, but it does. Not the labradoodle thing, but that shit about me being a mess and a "worse" choice for Dwight. I get into the car and slam it shut, hastily buckling my seatbelt.

"Can we listen to the audio book on the way home?"

"Yeah, sure, baby," I rifle through my purse for my phone, "Just give me a sec, okay?" I put my phone to my ear as it rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dwight?" I stick the key in the ignition. "Can you talk?"

 **...**

The bed frame knocks against the wall. I touch part of it as if it'll keep it from doing that. "Oh, yeah," I breathe, "Harder."

Dwight speeds things up, thrusting deeper as I lay on my back under him.

"Harder." I put my arms around his neck. When he obliges, I shut my eyes at the feeling, melting a hand down to this chest. "Oh, god, Dwight!" My toes begin to curl and I arch my back, touching his belly with mine. "Oh, Dwight!"

I let out a sharp cry and not longer afterwards, he comes, grunting suddenly and ceasing in my arms. It feels like a hundred and one degrees is burning off our bodies.

Dwight breathes out and then crashes his mouth onto mine. "I love you."

I laugh choppily, "I love you, too, D."

He clears some hair out of my face and looks down at me, before kissing me again and slowly climbing off me.

I sit up in bed, pulling the blankets up to my waist. "That was one for the books."

Dwight pants into a small chuckle. "Yeah, that was...pretty good."

"Pretty good?" I lay the back of my hand on his forehead. "Are you feeling okay? Because I came twice, which is not my best number, but it's still quite a feat on your end."

He smiles wide, laughing. "Shut up."

I snicker, "Your stomach's growling."

"Yeah, I hadn't eaten yet when you called."

I lift my leg over one of his. "It's not too late."

Dwight chuckles, playfully shoving my leg so he can sit up. "Thanks, but I think I'm just gonna grab something on the way home."

I lean my head back on the wall. "You can have Jolyon's leftover quesadilla. There's not bite marks."

"No, thanks, I'm good."

"Okay." I smile to myself as I imagine Negan taking me up on the offer. Fuck, he might not have even asked, or even minded if it had bite marks.

Dwight wipes sweat from his forehead. "Hey, I just remembered something."

"What?"

"It's your birthday on Saturday."

I sigh through my nose. "Yeah, I know."

"Are your parents doing anything for you?"

"Yeah, probably."

"You're not going out with friends, or...that guy?"

"No, I'm not," I bite my lip, "My friend from work invited me to go out on Friday night with her and her boyfriend, but I don't think I'll take her up."

"Oh, why not?"

"Because they're drinkers and I'm not...anymore and so I can't go bar hopping with them."

"Oh," Dwight nods, "You know, I was worried you wouldn't want to speak to me after last Friday."

I close my eyes. "I'll always want to speak to you, Dwight. But I was pretty pissed about that, just so you know."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just...couldn't bear the thought of screwing everything up with you again."

"What are you talking about?" I glance at him, brows furrowed. "We both agreed to call it quits."

"Yeah, after I drove enough space between us."

I shake my head. "No, we both did that, Dwight. I became depressed and didn't want to look in you in the eyes, because I was ashamed of losing your baby." I swallow the lump in my throat, as well as the dryness, "We...we suffered a loss and didn't know how to handle it. We were teenagers; most adult couples don't even know how to deal with shit like that. Fuck, just take a look at me for example."

"I should have told you not to be ashamed," He says, "It wasn't your fault."

"You didn't know," I sigh at the mirror that rests on my dresser, "I closed myself off from you, from everyone."

"I know, but, I still should've said or done something to help you get through it."

I touch his hand. "You know, we can sit here and list all the things we should've said or done, but it's never gonna do us a lick of good," My reflection stares back at me, "We need to let it go; we've spent too much time, too many years holding onto all the pain. Let it go."

Dwight takes my hand in his, kissing it. "I wanna be with you, Pippa."

"I know."

"No, I mean, I want you and I to be together," He turns his head my way, "Like we planned before."

I meet his gaze. "What?"

"I want us to live together, like-"

"Like a couple?"

"Yes."

I knit my brows. "Dwight, you're married."

He looks down at our joined hands. "I know...I just need some time to get everything figured out."

"...What are you talking about?"

"The same thing I was talking about the other night," Dwight sets his eyes on me again, serious, "I love you, Pippa, and I want to be with you."

"Dwight, I-"

"Look, I know it sounds like bullshit, but I just need time to figure out how I'm gonna break things to Sherry," He goes on, "We've had problems for years, Pip. Before we could just get over it and move on, but not this time."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not happy and we haven't been for months," He tells me, "If we talk, we fight. If we're in the same room together for long, we fight. We don't eat dinner together anymore, we go to bed at different times, so we don't have to speak. I sleep on the couch most nights. We haven't had sex in months."

I look at him with a sense of dèjá vu, considering I just heard similar tidings a few hours earlier. "How long have you been on the rocks?"

"I don't know...November."

"November? You never said anything."

"Who the hell talks about their marriage troubles?" He huffs. "It started after my birthday."

"What happened?"

Dwight looks forward. "I don't know. She was pissed that my mom insisted they buy a cake for my birthday; said that my mom thinks she's just some lazy bitch who expects me to do everything."

"Caroline wouldn't say that," I say, "She adores Sherry."

"I told her it wasn't true and that it wasn't that big of a deal and she told me not to dismiss her feelings," Dwight exhales, "I told her I wasn't, but she went off and said that I had no idea what it's like to work with my mother every single day and that I was gone a lot during the week and it's hard when the only other person she can rely on is my mom, who she said thinks I should've married you instead."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I guess my mom's affection for you bothers Sherry," He explains, "Like she can't hold a candle to you."

I nod, "So this argument has been dragged out for six months?"

He shrugs. "She said I've been taking more hauls lately and our marriage is growing apart," Dwight clears his throat, "Back in February, when I said we were gonna try to have a baby?"

"Yeah?"

"That was an attempt to reconcile," He claims, "To put everything behind us and start a new chapter, but...she kept getting frustrated that she wasn't getting pregnant. Said we were doing something wrong, or that I was pulling out too soon."

I mental image of them trying for a baby makes my stomach flop. "So, you stopped trying."

"One night she wanted to try, but I just got in from a haul, so I said I was tired and she accused me of always using that excuse and then said if I didn't want to have a baby, then just say so."

"What'd you say?"

Dwight rests his head against the wall. "I said that I did, but that maybe we should fix our issues, before we bring a kid into the mix."

"And she didn't take it well, I'm guessing."

"No, she didn't, but she agreed that we shouldn't try anymore," He looks over, "We haven't had sex since. Before that, I mean we did, but it wasn't good. She kept saying I was only having sex with her because I felt obligated to."

I breathe, taking all their unpleasant, martial sludge in. "Wow."

Dwight shifts his body my way. "Look, I...I don't think we're gonna be able to patch things up this time. It's never been this bad and neither of us is happy."

"You...you think you might divorce?"

"I..." Dwight looks away with glistened eyes, "I think so."

The muscles in my throat tighten for him. I put my other hand over both of ours. "I'm sorry."

He nods, before glancing back. "I love you, Pippa."

I smile, "I love you, too."

Dwight cups the side of my face to kiss me fervently. "I love you."

A chuckle escapes my lip. "I love you."

He leans my way, until I recline back into laying down. Dwight towers over me, peering down with a tender sleepiness to his slightly red eyes. I smile up at him, until he crashes his mouth to mine.

I feel his warmth and his hard cock poke at me as he positions himself. Desire curls the corners of my mouth as he reaches down to help drive it in. "Oh, Dwight."

I moan into his mouth as he puts our mouths together. "Stop seeing him."

I open my eyes. "What?"

"The guy from your work," He kisses my lips, "Stop seeing him."

I remain quiet, as I come to quickly realize what I've done.

 **...**

"She's gonna clean that son of bitch out," Lourdes laughs, chewing her donut, "My cousin's taking her to meet with a lawyer this morning. I'm gonna try to meet 'em for lunch to see how it went."

"Hey, more power to her." Negan stirs the stirrer in his coffee.

"Right?" Lourdes scoffs, "My mom was married to that prick since she was eighteen and he never let her work, it's only fair she take a portion of his pension." She licks some glaze off the corner of her mouth. "I don't care if that sounds vindictive. All she ever did was try to make him happy and he just berated her and told her she was lucky he didn't just drop her off at a shelter."

"Jesus, what a fucking dick hole."

"Amen."

"And who the fuck cares if it is vindictive?" Negan drinks from his paper coffee cup. "He took fuckin' thirty-seven years of her life and made it all fuckin' miserable."

"Well, it wasn't all bad," Lourdes slightly smirks, "I've been there for most of them."

"Oh, so how much do you owe Pilar?"

Lourdes laughs out. "Shut up!"

Negan chuckles, glancing my way. "What's eating you?"

I shake my head. "Nothing, just tired," I walk out of the faculty break room, "I'm gonna go to my classroom."

"But first bell doesn't ring for twenty minutes." Lourdes says, grabbing another donut.

"Yeah, I know."

I tread down the hall, utterly depleted. I didn't sleep after Dwight left last night; I was too filled with remorse and heavy thoughts. In cases such as this, my go to would typically be alcohol, but since that wasn't an option, I just paced around the room, or stared up at the ceiling fan.

"Hey!" Negan trots up to me. "You alright there, Head Coach?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, I am, you runner-up, so buzz off."

"Buzz off?" He chuckles, "What are you a kindergarten teacher?"

"Fuck off."

"There's the Pippa I know and love."

"Negan, please," I unlock the door to my class and go in, "I'm not in the mood."

Negan, of course, follows me in. "Will you be in the mood after testing gets out?" He grins, "Because if nothing's eatin' you, I'd sure like to."

"Wow, that as a bad pick up line," I set my purse and coffee down on my desk, "And yet, somehow effective."

Negan steps between me and the desk chair, setting his hands on my waist. "You wanna start the morning off right?"

I close my eyes, both aroused and tired. "Oh, yeah? With the breakfast of champions?"

"Damn right."

I push him off. "You sick fucker."

He laughs, "I'm kidding!"

I turn around to face him. "No, you weren't. If I went along with it, you wouldn't stop me."

"Who on earth would turn down a blowjob?" Negan brings me closer by the hips. "Especially from you? You, if I do say so myself, which I most certainly fucking do, are a magnificent cocksucker."

I frown, "Did you just call me a cocksucker?"

"Yes," He nods, "But in a good, non-derogatory way, that's why I said 'magnificent' and, to be fair, you do sometimes suck it...magnificently."

I roll my eyes. "I'll be sure to put that down on my list of skills. Right after my CPR certification."

"Don't sell yourself short," Negan chuckles, "Put that before the CPR."

I laugh, laying my head on his shoulder. "Why does everything you say that should piss me off, make me laugh?"

"Because you love me," He pecks my temple, "But most importantly, because I'm funny as fuck."

I snicker softly, "Yeah, you really got a hold on me."

"Wanna tell me what's chapping your ass?"

I bite my lip. "Um, I-"

We both pull apart when there's a light knock on the door. Thank god, the blind is down on the little window.

"Come in!"

"Pippa." Negan rolls his eyes.

The door opens and Ravinder comes in. She looks between Negan and I. Fuck, she totally knows. "Um, is this a bad time?"

"No, no, it's fine. Coach Negan and I were just discussing transportation for the away game next week," I glance at him, "What'd we decide?"

Negan cocks his brow at me. "The bus."

I awkwardly nod, realizing that it was stupid to ask that. "Great," I nervously smooth my hands down my dress, "So, what do you need?"

"I was just wondering if you could turn in the rough draft of my essay early."

"Yes, of course," I nod eagerly, "You want me to jot down notes and pointers in separate ink colors again?"

"Yes, please." She hands me her rough draft, which already has red ink marks where she's self-corrected grammar errors.

"Okay, see ya."

"Okay, bye, good luck on your testing," I let out heavy sigh as she closes the door, "She knows, her sister told her."

"Shit, I guess we'll have to kill 'em both to silence 'em."

"Shut up," I put my hand across my forehead, exhaling when the bell rings, "Go to class."

"Are you gonna give me detention, if I don't?"

"No, but you might get suspended," I smirk, winking, "If you catch my drift."

Negan laughs, strolling towards the door. "See ya later."

 **...**

Come end of the minimum day, I casually walk to Negan's office. I'm still not getting any stares from students, so Nanda must not have told anyone yet. I would've thought she'd be mean-spirited enough to, just to get me trouble, but maybe seeing her crush kissing her least favorite teacher left her a little heartbroken. Take it from me when I say teenagers can take things really hard, even if she never had a chance with the big idiot.

Negan's door is unlocked, but he's not in. On his desk chair is a note saying he went to the taco truck and will be back in ten minutes. I'm almost surprised there wasn't something dirty written on the note, but...oh, wait there's an arrow, telling me to turn it over. I roll my eyes. Fucking pervert.

I glance around his office, despite being in here hundreds of times. The reprimanding letters taped on the white brick wall make me chuckle. On the filing cabinet behind his chair, sits a framed picture of him and Lucille. They look like they're at some snowy woods with a toasty little cabin in the background. They look happy.

God, I can't shake those words. "They" and "happy" in the same sentence just really fucking get me lately and I know why. I take the picture up for a closer look. The door opens shortly after and the delicious scent of tacos follows.

"Daddy's back," Negan says with a bag in his hand, "And he brought tacos."

I place the frame back on his cabinet, wiping a loose tear from my eye. "You're such a good provider."

"Don't I know it," He tosses me a foil wrapped package, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"What time are you getting the brat?"

"In an hour," I tell him, "He wanted to stay for a birthday celebration." I open my tacos. "Where's that at?"

Negan briefly glances at the picture as he sits down. "Some cabin we rented in Vermont."

"Oh, romantic."

"Well, we did fuck a lot that week," He kicks his feet up on the desk, "That was about...three years ago, I think."

I nod, biting my first taco. "Three years ago, I was crying every time Jolyon cried, while praying that my nipples wouldn't leak in public."

"Do go on."

I grin while chewing. "It's not as _titillating_ a tale as you'd think. See what I did?"

"Leave the jokes to me, kid," Negan chuckles, "Were you just crying now?"

"Tch, no," I sit on his desk, "It's just allergies. You know, it's pollen season."

"So, take an allegory pill."

"Noted," I start my second taco, "Lourdes went to meet her mom and cousin, huh?"

"Yeah, to see how shit went with that divorce attorney."

I nod, "It's nice to have lunch together, just the two of us."

"Tired of your little pal?"

"No, I just think it's weird when the three of us hang out, which has been happening a lot lately."

Negan scoffs, "I would've thought you'd like that her and I were getting along."

"I do, but...don't you think it's strange?" I ask him. "That she's suddenly nice to you? Just like that?"

"I mean, I guess, but what do I fuckin' care? It's better than the alternative. You haven't seen Lourdes pissed off like I have."

I scratch my nose. "Was she the first woman you ever...you know, had an affair with?"

Negan looks up from his tacos. "No."

I bite my lip, nodding, mildly relieved. "Okay."

"But she was the first woman I ever saw continuously."

I glance up. "What does that mean?"

He shrugs. "All the women before her were...sporadic, one time screws that meant nothing."

"I thought Lourdes meant nothing."

Negan sighs, frustrated. "I lied, she and I got along and I liked seeing her. She was the first woman I bothered to get to know."

"And then you added on Lara and Claire?" I wiggle my nose, agitated. "And Jessica."

"Yeah, but I never asked about them, or their families, "Negan huffs, "And they didn't want me to either. Same as all the others."

"Who were the others?"

"I don't know, women I'd meet someplace like…" He looks up in thought, "The cashier at the grocery store, or some gal I met at the bar...this woman who renewed my first aid and CPR certifications."

"Wow," I rigidly say, "You're literally one of those assholes that can get a woman like that." I snap my fingers. "Like in the movies."

"What can I say? I'm an asshole, but a charming asshole at that."

I breathe in and out. "And what about me?"

"You know about you."

"You love me."

"Yeah."

I take a quick look at the picture behind him. "Like you loved Lourdes."

"No, not like I loved Lourdes."

"So, you admit you loved her?"

Negan groans, crumpling up his foil. "Jesus, Pip, why do you always have to fuckin' start an argument in an empty house?"

"Were you in love with her?"

"No, I wasn't 'in love' with her, but I loved her," He retorts, "I cared about her. Satisfied?"

I lick my lips, looking down at my last taco. "Are you in love with me?"

"Yes, I am, although I fuckin' wonder why sometimes."

I nod, "And if you weren't married, you'd want to be with me?"

"I want to be with you now."

"I mean like live with me, or...something."

Negan stares at me. "I don't know, maybe."

I breathe out, nodding again. "Maybe…"

He continues to observe me. "You aren't gonna put a hit out on my wife, are you?"

"Negan!" I scold.

"Because I gotta tell you, darlin', that would be a severe fuckin' turn off."

"Stop it!" I snap at his teasing. "I'm being serious."

He stops chuckling, but he's still got that fucking grin on his face. "Hell, baby, I thought we talked about this in D.C."

I scoff, "I'm not asking you to leave her, so fucking relax."

"I am relaxed, you're the fuckin' one who's got her fuckin' panties in a twist."

"Whatever," I grumble, sinking my teeth into my taco, "Maybe I'm entitled to a little wedgie every now and then, considering I'm always gonna be the other woman."

"Well, do me a favor and fuckin' eat lunch by yourself on those days," Negan says back, "Because we both agreed that we couldn't go past what we have now."

A raw ache forms in my throat. "I did something I shouldn't have last night."

"You didn't drink, did you?"

"No."

"Then whatever it is can't be that bad."

"I had sex with him last night," I turn my head when Negan turns his to meet his eyes, "I called him."

Negan glowers at me, but he doesn't say anything, which I always find to be significantly worse than him firing off around of insults and explicatives.

"I know it was a mistake," I croak with a dry throat, "I was being petty and awful and...I shouldn't have done it, because I..." I try not to tear up, "I think I might have to hurt him." Oh, fuck it. I reach for a tissue. "And I know he'll never speak to me again after that."

Negan just scowls at me, furthering the torturous silent treatment.

"He said he wants to leave his wife."

At that, Negan lets out a skeptical scoff as he rolls his eyes. "Here we fuckin' go. And you fuckin' believed him, right?"

"No," I rasp snidely, "I mean, I don't know...he said he needed some time to figure it out."

"Him and every other cheating dick," Negan retorts, "Except me, of course."

"He also wanted me to stop seeing you."

"I bet he did." He wryly huffs.

I look down at my taco, thinking it all over again in my head.

"Did you say you were going to?"

I arch my brow, before glancing up at him. "What do you think?"

Negan chuckles. "God, I love it when you look at me like that, you sultry bastard."

I bite my taco, rolling my eyes again. "Forget it."

"Call it a wild ass guess, but I take it you didn't tell him that you weren't gonna you stop seeing me? So, he thinks you are?"

"I couldn't," I swallow, "I wanted to, but after everything he said, because of what I did, I punked out."

"Pip, baby, he told you what every fucking married man tells their side piece."

I sigh, "Except you, 'of course'."

"Yep, know why? Because I'm not gonna lead you around town with a head full of hope and dreams that won't ever come true."

I lick my bottom lip. "Man, that just makes me feel like a million fuckin' bucks. I can't be his side piece, but I can be yours, because with you I'm a side piece without hopes and dreams."

"Oh, come on, you know what I fucking mean," He scoots his chair closer to the desk, "I might be an asshole, but I'm not gonna fuckin' break your heart like that."

"No, you'll just break my heart some other way."

"That's right," He pats my leg, "So, cheer the fuck up."

I don't know why that makes me laugh, but it does. "Maybe I should break yours first as some sort of preemptive strike."

"You would fuckin' like to get me, before I get you, you treacherously hot adversary."

I chuckle, before I look at him, troubled. "What if he does leave her?"

Negan's expression dims.

"I...I don't think I want to be with him," I confess, "I think I'm actually moving on and I..." I feel so foolish when our eyes meet, "Love you too much to give you up."

A smile tips up on his face, but he doesn't say anything.

"That's your cue to say something back."

He laughs under breath. "I love you, Pippa."

I smile, moving myself closer to him. He scoots back in his chair, so I can sit in the center of the desk. Negan then wheels himself back, trailing his hands up my dress.

"Do you want me to stop seeing him?"

He looks up. "I don't think he's good for you, but I sure as hell ain't gonna ask you to."

I touch his face to keep his attention. "Ask me."

Negan's eyes scan my face as his grin extends. "Stop seeing your ex-boyfriend."

"That was a command, not a fucking request."

"Okay, fine, will you stop seeing your ex-boyfriend?"

I bend a little, until we're face to face and I kiss him. "Yes."

He chuckles against my lips. "Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Couldn't bear to part with this dick, huh?" Negan slides his hands to my underwear. "Good choice."

I chuckle, shimming myself close enough to the edge of the desk, so he can remove them. "I've had bigger, but I love your spirit, champ."

Negan throatily laughs. "God, you fuckin' slay me."

"Just wait until we get to the batting cages."

He closes his eyes as he sighs. "Shit."

"What?"

"I can't go."

"Why not?"

"Lucille cancelled her plans," He tells me, "She just texted me during the tests to say she was headin' home early."

"Migraines?"

"Yeah," Negan exhales again, "Sorry, honey."

"No, it's okay," I take him by the belt as he stands, "We can go another time."

"Yeah, we'll have to," He agrees, opening his bottom drawer, "Jol will love it."

I can't help but smile. "I bet."

Negan shuts his drawer, tossing a condom on my lap. "You're parents gonna watch him tomorrow night?"

"Yeah," I slide my hand into his pants he opens the condom, "They wanted me to tell you that they appreciate you taking me to the meetings."

"Oh, so mom and dad like me, huh?"

"Yeah, but they've really never met you, so you know."

Negan snickers as he kisses me. "Fuck you."

I lay back on the desk, chuckling softly as he pulls me forward. I look up at his eyes and smile, stifling a moan as he enters me. He groans, closing his eyes at the damn good feeling.

When he opens them again, he peers down at me and he smiles at my face. I meant what I said about not seeing Dwight again. But it's not just because I don't want to stop seeing Negan; it's because I can't bring myself to ever see him again.

What I did made me realize that I built up false hope in him, because I wanted to get back at Sherry for those things she said about him and me. It was cruel and utterly reprehensible and, to be honest, pointless. Sherry's never gonna even know. I used Dwight, played on the desperateness I saw in him the other night, and I am ashamed. That's not the person I am, or want to be, and certainly not to him.

So, I meant what I said about not seeing him again. I'll see to it to sever myself from him as much as I can control. And I'll be Negan's other woman. For as long as I can, anyway.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **PattyGG: Aw, I'm glad you like Pippa and Jolyon's relationship. I love writing them together, but really I think my favorite scenes to write are just any that involve Jolyon, aside from Negan and Pippa's back and forths. Yeah, I think Negan really enjoys the little family set up he gets when he's with them, too.**

 **MoorishWoe: Yeah, I always imagined Pippa that way when I first started forming FYIWAF. I think maybe because I was listening to Izzy's music during lol. There was a slight hint that she was a WOC in the first chapter, when she runs into Daryl and Merle at that motel. How did you picture her? And, oh no, don't hate SY Dwight! He's the good guy in that fic lol! I know, this Dwight is not my favorite either, but hey, if Pippa's gonna try to move on, there's gotta be a compelling reason, you know, other than the fact that he'd married. I'm happy you enjoy my fic so much, thanks for the kind words!**

 **CLTex: I know, it is weird to have Negan and Pippa have more endearing dialog now that they have said the three bigs word, but I also think it's cute mixed in with their banter. As I'm sure you've just got done reading though, it also comes with more uncomfortable, serious talks.**

 **StTudnoBright: If you liked Pippa comforting Lourdes, then you're gonna like some things to come *suspense* lol. I know, even though I'm writing it, I still think it's adorable that Negan wants to sort of mosey himself into Jolyon's upbringing. Yeah...Lucille's migraines….*slanted frown***

 **Guest: Thank you! I'm naturally detail-oriented, so I can't help but to be wordy and detailed in my writing, so I'm glad you appreciate and like it! And as for the migraines...well, we all know it's coming sadly. I'm not looking forward to it, either.**


	41. Chapter 41

The Thursday night AA meeting gets out around seven-thirty. Negan went with me as usual and like usual, we grab a bite to eat at Lorelei's. I think the staff here thinks we're an item. I smile back at the waitresses as they pass me with grins on their faces. If only they knew.

"What a fuckin' mess that one guy was, huh?"

I scoff, looking back to him, "Negan."

"Oh, you weren't thinking the same fucking thing?"

"Well...sure, but I don't think we're supposed to talk about the other people from the meeting."

Negan chuckles, opening his menu. "What do you think they're gonna kick us out?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I think," I fire back, "Besides, who are we to judge?"

"He kind of looked like Avery, right? Except maybe more likely to be in a biker gang."

I let out a laugh. "Aw, he did look like outlaw biker Avery!"

"Ready to order?" Mindy asks with her notepad and pen in hand.

"Yeah, I'll take the usual." I tell her.

"Alright," She nods, "Biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns. And you?"

"I'll have what she's having, since apparently it's fuckin' something special."

"Alright, I'll have those right out for you." Mindy walks off.

"You always order the same fuckin' thing."

"So?"

"So, you always speak volumes about this place and for what? One thing?"

"I like biscuits and gravy," I chuckle, "And I don't ever hear you complaining about coming here."

"Well, that's because it's cheap and you never foot the bill."

I grin as I sip my ice tea. "I'm a single mother."

"With a good job."

"Hey, most mistresses want jewelry," I taunt him, "But not me; all I want is biscuits and gravy."

"Fair play." Negan laughs, before looking down at his alerting phone.

My smile humbles. "Do you need to go?"

"No," He answers, "She's just reminding me to bring in the garbage when I get home."

"Is she out of town again?"

"No, she's just going to bed."

"What'd you tell her about why you weren't coming home?"

"I told her that my coworker without a vagina had a hard night and needed a friend to stay to make sure he didn't fall off the wagon."

"And she believes that?"

"If she didn't, she'd fuckin' say so."

I nod, "And she's not wondering who it is specifically?"

"I told her I swore I wouldn't fuckin' say anything, because 'he' was afraid he'd lose his job."

I arch my brow. "She thinks you're that good a friend, despite being married to you for years?"

He shrugs. "I like helping people, she knows that. It's one of those redeeming qualities she finds sexy as fuck."

"My dude, you don't have redeeming qualities."

"My dude," Negan mimics back, "Fuck you."

I snicker, "Excuse me for being skeptical."

"How the holy fuck can you be skeptical?" Negan scoffs, "You're the guy I've been helping."

"You mean the guy you've been fucking."

"Damn straight."

We're quiet for a few moments after our laughter settles and I frankly don't mind. It's sort of a relief. The fact that he's lying to his wife to spend the night with me sinks in and it becomes less humorous.

"You know Jol's buying you a gift?"

I look from the window. "What?"

"He told me while we were playing catch."

"My mom must be planning something like she did for Christmas," I touch the necklace around my neck, "But I doubt it could top this."

Negan's eyes follow my hand. "I don't know, he seemed pretty stoked about it."

"What is it?"

"Tch, I'm not fuckin' telling you."

"So, you do know?"

"Yes, I know."

"Oh, come on," I graze my foot against his leg, "Just a little hint."

"Really?" Negan raises his brow. "You're gonna try to seduce it out of me?"

"Well, if I knew an easier way, I'd go that route," I bite my lip, smiling, "But then again, you are pretty easy."

Negan breathes in and then out. "Well, I am getting hard."

I snake my leg down slowly. "Tell me what I want to know."

He grins into a throaty chuckle. "You can fuck my brains out all night long, Pippa, but I'm not gonna talk. Though I wouldn't tell you not to fucking try."

My humored eyes flicker to the door behind him opening with a ring of the bell. The smile on my face drops and I bashfully bring my leg back to my side.

"What?" Negan asks me. "Too much?"

I put my hand on my face, looking down. "No, I just, um..."

He glances over his shoulder and I give him a soft, swift kick. "The fuck was that for?"

"Don't look!" I mouth sharply, but it's too late.

"Hey!"

"Hey." I smile like I'm sitting on a tack.

My mom and Caroline walk over to our booth. "Funny running into you here!"

"Yeah," I say, tucking some hair behind my ear, "I told you I was gonna grab some food before I got Jolyon."

"Oh, well, I didn't know you meant here."

"Did you just come from wine and watercolors?"

"Yes, we did," Caroline smiles, "We were gonna grab some pie and coffee and chat."

"Oh," I nod, before my eyes glance across the table, "Uh, this is Negan. We work together."

"Oh, so this is the famous Negan we keep hearing all about," My mom puts out her hand, "Hi, I'm Sarah, Pippa's mother."

"Nice to meet you," Negan shakes her hand with a friendly smirk, "I see where Pip gets her good looks."

I almost want to strangle him, but my mom laughs, so I guess it's okay.

"Well, I've always taught my girls the importance of skin care," She smiles at him, "This is Caroline."

Negan and Caroline exchange how-do-you-dos and hands and it practically unhinges my nerves. It's the closest he's ever gotten to Dwight contact wise. That other night when he showed up at my house officially is second place.

"Thank you for taking Pippa to her meetings," Mom thanks Negan, "We, her father and I, really do appreciate the support you've been giving her."

"Yeah, well, Pippa's some woman," Negan looks my way, "She's done most the work herself, I've just been behind her to keep her steady."

I smile sweetly, a little embarrassed.

"Well, thanks again," She touches my shoulder, "We'll leave you kids alone, but Pippa if you want, you can just ride home with me."

"Oh, no, it's okay," I shake my head, "We took my car."

"Oh, really?" She furrows her brows and looks out. "I didn't see it."

"It's there," I lie, "Negan left his car at work."

She glances back at me. "You're gonna drive him all the way back there tonight?"

I stare at her. "No."

My mom then peers over at Negan for a moment, before nodding. "Oh...okay."

"It's nice seeing you again, Caroline."

Caroline's eyes move from Negan to me and she smiles. "Yeah, let's go to coffee."

"Sure."

"Soon."

I nod my head. "Yeah, okay. Give me a call."

"Alright, sweetie, see ya later," She walks back towards the booths behind me, "Happy early birthday."

"Thank you," I blink back to my mother, "See ya in a little bit, Mom."

"Alright," She nods, "Nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise." Negan says.

I put my hand on my forehead, mortified. "Fuuuck!"

Negan looks me over. "Did you tell Mom we were seeing each other?"

Now I feel even more embarrassed. "She doesn't know you're married."

"But you did tell her?"

"No," I briefly glance over my shoulder, "Jolyon talks about you a lot. I've been playing it off as us just being friends, but the other day Jolyon told them that you spent the night and slept in my bed...and that you and I kiss." I scratch my brow. "And that you say you love me."

Negan continues to analyze me from his side of the booth.

My cheeks simmer up and I focus on the table. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"For it slipping out like that."

Mindy brings over our food and Negan waits for her to leave before he responds. "Who's that other woman?"

"Caroline."

"Well, no shit, I retained that bit of information," He scoffs, cutting into his biscuit with his fork, "I meant relation wise?"

"Oh..." I salt my hash browns, "She's my ex-boyfriend's mother."

He looks over at them for a second. "They hang out?"

"Sometimes, yeah," I pass him the shaker; "They've known each other for years. They didn't stop being friends just because Dwight and I broke up."

"Hm." He nods as he chews.

I bite my lip. "You okay?"

He swallows. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "You're quiet."

"I'm eating."

"Yeah, but...never mind."

Negan starts to snicker as he eats.

"What?" I ask, slightly irritated.

"Nothing," He shakes his head, "It's just cute that you're all embarrassed."

I scoff. "I am not embarrassed."

"Yeah, you fuckin' are," He grins at me, "I can see it on your face."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Aw, don't be all shy about it," Negan smirks into his dimples, "I think it's really quite sweet."

"God," I groan, "You are such a dick."

"Yes, I am."

I drag a piece of my biscuit through some gravy. "...So, you aren't mad, or anything?"

"No, I'm not mad."

"I didn't put you in an awkward position?"

"Baby, you can put me in any position you want," Negan quips, "So long as I can put you in any position I want."

"Sh!" I kick him. "My mother is like three booths away."

"So, no hopes of fucking in the parking lot then?"

I roll my eyes. "There was never any hope of that."

"Damn." Negan sarcastically laments.

I look him over. "You're sure about tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Because you don't have to," I let him know, "You could just go home. I know Lucille hasn't been feeling well lately."

"Ah, she's fine," Negan tells me, taking another bite, "It's just migraines. We've got special aspirin for that."

I breathe my nose. "Okay."

"It's fine, baby," Negan nonchalantly eats, "Consider it my birthday gift to you."

I raise my brow at him. "Oh, gee whiz, you mean you're gonna fuck me on a school night?"

"There's no school tomorrow, dipshit."

"Yes, there is, dipshit."

"No, there isn't, you fuckin' idiot," Negan argues with a grin, "The last day of testing was today, so they gave the kids tomorrow off, remember?"

"No, they get next Monday off for the long weekend."

"And tomorrow for the end of the statewide testing."

I think about it for a minute. Oh, yeah...there was that memo that was emailed to us two weeks ago. "Oh, I remember now."

"Yeah, so fuck you."

"I don't know, I think I'm coming down with a headache."

Negan chuckles, putting down his knife and fork. "Let's get out of here."

"To go pick up my boy at my parent's house?"

"Yes, and so I can get you home," He signals for the waitress, "Your foot rubbing's really working."

"I haven't been rubbing you with my foot since my mother walked in."

"I know, but it still worked."

I sling my purse strap over my shoulder. "Ew, you haven't pitched a tent, have you?"

"Not yet, but I've been thinking about it this whole time, so it'll be any moment now."

"Oh, god, I take you anywhere."

"Now you know what it's like to be married to me."

 **...**

"Mom!" Jolyon rustles my arm. "Mom, wake up!"

"Huh?" I jolt out of my sleep. "What? What happened?"

"I spilled orange juice on your bed."

I furrow my brows, sitting up. "What?"

"There!" He points.

I look over to the other side of the bed, where orange liquid saturates into my comforter. "Oh, Jol!"

"I'm sorry," His eyes get all puppy-dog wide, "It was an accident."

"I know, baby," I get out of bed, so I can strip it, "It's okay."

"Mom, you're naked!"

"I'm-?" I rip the comforter to me, "Shit, I'm sorry. Get out so I can dress, please."

"I saw your boobs _and_ your butt!"

"Out!"

He runs out of the room with his hands covering his eyes. I throw on some clothes and then bundle up my bedding to stick in the wash. My kid's gonna need therapy in a few years.

Negan walks through the open door. "What the hell?"

"Jolyon spilled orange juice on my bed," I move past him to the laundry room, "Thanks for giving him an open cup."

"He's four, I thought he could handle it."

"At a table." I huff.

He leans on the doorframe of the room. "I didn't see any sippy cups."

"There's a few plastic cups with straws and screw on lids in the cupboards," I flick on the washer, turning around with my hands on my hips, "Did you even fucking look?"

"He said you let him use regular glasses."

"Oh, fuck, really?" I raise my brows into my forehead. "The four year old told you I let him do something he's not really supposed to do? That's weird."

He grins, "Alright, that's fair."

I sigh through my nose. "I thought you'd be gone by now."

"Ouch," He touches his hand to his chest, "Don't tell me I was just a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am last night?"

I walk towards the door, faking like I'm going to kiss him. I pull away last minute, smacking him on the ass as I pass him. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Jol said he saw you naked."

"Yeah, that's because you let him come into my bedroom without warning."

"I don't think it'd be appropriate to tell your kid to watch out for his mom's titties."

I hit his arm. "I meant me, you stupid twat!"

"Well, why the fuck were you still naked?"

"Because I was still sleeping!" I wash my face in my sink.

I feel his hand graze my hip. "I thought you got dressed after you showered last night."

"No, I didn't," I swat his hand, "It was hot last night."

"You were hot last night," Negan plants a kiss on the back of my neck, "Jolyon wants to know where the chocolate syrup is for chocolate milk."

I make a sound of disgust. "We are throwing that bottle away."

"Why?" He chuckles. "It's almost a full bottle."

"Because I let you drink it out of my navel." I remind him.

"And off your tits," Negan kisses me again, "Don't forget that. And your thighs."

"Oh, my god, we're disgusting." I get into my medicine cabinet.

"Oh, come on, that's not disgusting," He leans against the sink, "We could've put that syrup in some other areas I could think of."

"I told you I wasn't putting my mouth there with syrup on it."

"I wasn't talking about on me."

I curl my lip. "Yuck."

"Jesus," Negan looks at all the bottles and jars I set out in from of me, "Do you really put that all that shit on your face?"

I tab some toner on a cotton pad. "Yes."

"In one sitting?"

"Uh-huh." I release a few drops of oil onto my fingers.

"Fuck," He picks up my jar of eye cream, "Sarah wasn't kidding on the skin care thing, huh?"

"First of all, don't call my mom Sarah like you're chums, and secondly...yes."

"How much do you shell out for all this?"

"Skin care is an investment," I grab the jar out of his hand, "And I'm a single mother, so what the fuck do you think? I get all this shit at the drugstore."

"What's all that up there?"

"My night time stuff."

"Oh, you've got to be fuckin' kidding me?" He rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I look at him through the mirror as I smear moisturizer on my face, "Do you not live with a woman? You're telling me Lucille just wakes up with glowing skin?"

"Yes, but so do you."

"Yeah, because I use all that crap up there before bed," I scoff, "You're honestly telling me Lucille doesn't have moisturizer, because I'm gonna be seriously pissed if she doesn't."

He laughs at my mild jealousy. "Yeah, alright, she does, but I don't fuckin' get why."

"Because men are cruel bastards who lose interest in women when they get older," I bitterly say, suddenly feeling in a mood, "Like you dicks don't get old."

"I haven't lost interest in my wife," He reads the label of my oil, "If anything, she's lost a little interest in me."

I almost snottily ask why he supposes that is, but I think better of it. I start to put it all back into the cabinet. "She hasn't lost interest in you."

"I asked if she wanted me to come home," He hands me the bottle, "Said I could, if she wanted me home instead of watching after my emotionally distraught drunk coworker."

I roll my eyes at his exaggeration.

"But she told me to stay the night here," Negan sits up, "That she'd be perfectly fine without me."

I look over at him. "Don't get all butt hurt; she probably didn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah..." He exhales.

"Oh, come on, tiger," I pat his arm, "She was probably just a little sick because of the migraine. Do you know how annoying it is to talk with someone on the phone when you've got a splitting headache?"

"Yeah."

"If she lost interest in you, you wouldn't be getting it anymore," I give a light chuckle, "Trust me. Women don't fuck with dick they don't want."

He cuts a smile, "You're an asshole."

"You're just all knackered because she's the one person who doesn't want or need your help." That and he's lied and cheated on her.

"Mm, is that why you're so fucking good lookin'?"

I laugh as he pulls me close. "I'm absolutely helpless."

"Mom?"

"In here!"

"Are you not naked anymore?"

"No, I'm not naked."

Jolyon comes into the bathroom. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, you want me to get breakfast started?"

"We already did!" He says, "It's on the table waiting for you."

"What's on the table for me?" I look between Negan and my son.

"Come on," Jolyon takes my hand, "I'll show you."

I let Jolyon lead me out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. My table is set for three with glistening food in the middle, along with a pitcher of orange juice. Pancakes, both chocolate chip and regular, syrup, bacon, hash browns, and scrambled eggs. The timer on my oven dings and I smell what I think is blueberry muffins. My coffee pot brews a fresh pot.

"Are you surprised?" Jolyon looks up at me with a smile. "What do you think?"

"I think my kitchen is goddamn mess," I pick him up, "Did you do this for me?"

"Yeah, because Negan can't come to your birthday tomorrow."

I glance over my shoulder. "You made me breakfast?"

Jolyon touches my face. "I helped, Mom."

I chuckle, smiling at him. "Did you set the table?"

"How did you know?"

I peck his lips. "Because you are the very best at setting the table and I know expert work when I see it."

"Aw, you're so sweet."

I laugh again, kissing his cheek. " _You're_ so sweet." I put him down, so he can sit on the bench.

"Come eat, Mom."

I watch Negan pull a muffin tray out of the oven. "How early did you have to get up to do all this?"

"Six," He takes off the oven mitts, "Do you really sleep until eight on your days off?"

"My alarm was supposed to go off at seventy-thirty."

"Oh, I turned it off, so you wouldn't wake up."

"Well, then why the hell ask me?" I pad over to him.

"Because I get up at five every morning," He pops the muffins out the tin with a butter knife, "I don't set my alarm on the weekends, because Lu likes to sleep in."

I slip my hand under his shirt, touching his back. "Mm, and do you make her breakfast every morning?"

"I bring her coffee in bed."

"Aw, I think you have Jolyon and I beat on who's sweeter."

"Fuck you."

I kiss his shoulder. "Where's your apron?"

"I took it off when I came to see what all the fucking hullabaloo was about."

"Well, put it back on."

"You want me to put your apron back on?"

"Yeah," I chuckle, "It'll turn me on."

"I hate to break it to you, darlin', but I'm sitting down to eat and I don't mean you."

I smile, walking over to the table. "You going home after this?"

"Yeah, I gotta take care of some shit today while Lu's at work."

"She doesn't have the day off?"

"Nope and I doubt she's calling in sick," Negan sits down at the unofficial head of the table, "If her headaches worsen, she'll come home early."

"Make her go to the doctor."

"Let's get one thing clear, Pip, she can make me do something, for the most part anyway, but I can't make her do a goddamn thing she doesn't want to do."

I snicker, cutting up Jolyon's pancakes. "Boy, every time you talk about her, I swear I like her more and more."

"Everyone likes her more than me."

"Oh, honey, it isn't your fault; you use to be garbage."

Negan chuckles as he chews. "You're lucky I like you."

Jolyon reaches for the orange juice. "Can I have some, please? I won't spill it this time."

"Sure, babe."

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Where did our chocolate syrup go?"

My eyes flicker towards Negan briefly as I pour. "Um, I threw it away."

"Why?"

"Because we were all out."

"But we just got it."

"Yeah, but I accidentally left it out and it went bad."

"Aw, man!"

"Sorry, hon."

Negan smirks as he eats his breakfast and I have to fight back my own smile.

 **...**

The neighbor's plump, brown dachshund barks on the back of a green, sun-faded sofa as it spots me from the window. I smoke on the porch in the warm May weather as a slight breather from the little get together in my parent's backyard.

My mom invited Audrey and her family down to celebrate my thirty-second year. She would've invited more people if she was certain more people would show up. I'm the family drunk, so no one in our extended family really goes out of their way for me and aside from Negan and Lourdes, I don't have any friends my mom could call. I'm just glad she doesn't know either of their numbers.

I woke up this morning to a bright-eyed little boy jumping on my bed. Jolyon loves birthdays, so he always gets super stoked whenever one rolls around. He brought me strawberry sprinkled poptarts that he put in the toaster himself after he dragged a chair over to the counter. He also got a glass of milk without spilling it and put it on my nightstand, where a very cute, handmade card sat as well.

I got a text from Lourdes wishing me a happy birthday. She wants to go out next weekend, but I'm apprehensive to say yes, because of what happened the last time. Well, I mean, I guess I just went home with Negan, but I did have to pepper spray that guy. Negan didn't send me a text, but he already said happy birthday to me yesterday before he left and he is with Lucille. My mom asked why he didn't come, so I just casually made up a lie about someone breaking into his car last night. She obviously didn't notice the wedding ring on his finger. Don't see how, I never miss it.

I flick my cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. Right as I go to go in, I notice a familiar Subaru roll up the road. When I'm absolutely sure it's Caroline's, I pause. Please tell me she's going up the road...yes! I sigh in relief. Phew, for a second there I thought she was going to- Oh fuck me, she's turning around to park.

I stand there on the porch, too afraid of looking like the ass that saw a guest was pulling up and then just went inside. I want to fucking die when I see both doors open. Both her and Dwight get out of the car. I wasn't planning on seeing him again until I broke it to him that I wasn't going to be with him if he left his wife.

I fake a smile when they see me. "Hey!"

"Hi, sweetie!" Caroline waves, "Happy birthday!"

"What a surprise!" I say, "I didn't know you were coming!"

"Oh, Sarah invited us Thursday," She hugs me when she gets up to the porch, "I hope that's alright."

"Of course," I fib, looking over, "Hey, D."

"Hey, happy birthday."

"Thanks," I rub my arm, "Where's Sherry?"

"She went to D.C. to see her sister."

"Oh."

"She sends her regards." Really fucking doubt it.

I smile, "How nice of her."

We go inside and towards the kitchen to the backyard. Upon seeing them, my Mom and Audrey give big, excited "hey!"s.

"It's so good to see you!" Audrey gives Caroline a big hug. "You look great!"

"You look better!"

Audrey's smile lessens but not for the worse when she sees Dwight. "Hey, D. Long time no see."

"Same."

She gives him a light, endearing hug. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah," He replies, "You, too."

Audrey looks at me and I can tell what she's thinking.

I look over at our mother. "Mom, you didn't tell me you invited the Rollins'."

"Oh, I know, I forgot, honey," She comes over, "I invited Caroline to come on Thursday night and I told her to bring the kids by, too."

"Great." I smile, internally screaming.

"I hope we're not imposing." Caroline says.

"Oh, no, of course not," I assure, although I am pissed, "It makes this little shindig seem fuller and less sad."

She laughs, patting my arm, before glancing around the backyard. "Where's that handsome fella you were with the other night?"

Both Audrey and Dwight's eyes are on me, but I force myself to keep eye contact with Caroline. "Um, he had some situation with his car and couldn't make it."

"Oh, too bad," She gives me a light smile, "Okay, Sarah; what can I help with?"

The two mothers go off together, leaving me with the two people I least want to explain whom that "handsome fella" is. I peer at my sister and smile as if asking for mercy.

She breathes, turning to Dwight. "So, how have you been, Dwight?"

"Good," He smiles at her, "How about you? It's been a while since I've seen you last."

"I've been really well," She tells him, "I don't think you've met my husband, have you?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh, I'll introduce you. I just have to change my shirt real quick," Audrey draws focus to a stain on her shirt, "Jolyon spilled a cup of strawberry lemonade."

I huff, "It was his cup, but Erin knocked it over."

"Who would know?" She shrugs, laughing, " Jol's such an accident prone kid."

"He's four."

"Whatever," She nudges me, "Can I borrow a shirt from your room?"

"What's wrong with the one's in your room?"

"I had terrible style in high school."

"Okay, fine."

"Where's that cute cream and yellow striped blouse of yours?"

"Probably in the closet."

"Come show me," She encourages.

"Uh, okay." I look at Dwight, before I follow her.

We go into the house and up to my old bedroom, where my mom still has a few of my jeans and a couple shirts in the closet from when I was in high school. She donated most of our old clothes, but still keeps some around in case we ever need a change of clothes when we visit.

"God, I can't believe she kept my prom dress," I say as I stare at it in a plastic dress cover, "How can she look at it without thinking of me getting knocked up in a hotel room?"

"Because what parents visualize that when they think of their kids?" Audrey scoffs as she closes the door, "Besides, it's not like she comes in here to be with your clothes like you died, or something. She just dusts once a week."

"Here's the shirt," I hand it to her, "I don't know why you needed my help with this."

"Were you with that married guy from your work the other night?"

"Oh, now I see."

"Well, were you?"

"Yes, Audrey, okay? I was with Negan."

"Oh, this 'handsome fella' has a name?" She remarks as she pulls her shirt over her head.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Pippa!" She huffs, "Mom saw you with him."

"I'm aware of that Audrey," I tell her, "It was an accident. I didn't know they were gonna show up to the diner."

"Well, what were you doing with him?"

I roll my eyes at her. "I was blowing him under the table while we waited for our food."

"God, don't be so crude."

"Well, what the fuck do you think I was doing?" I retort, "We were having dinner after the meeting. And for the record, Mom and Dad know about him."

"They what?" She spins around as she puts on the blouse. "You told them?"

"Jolyon adores him and talks about him all the time," I explain to her, "He's sort of dropped it that Negan spends the night sometimes."

"Spends the night?" Her brow arches. "As in he sleeps with you and then stays the night?"

"Whoa, nothing gets past you."

"How the hell does he manage that with having a wife?"

"Easy, she goes out of town a lot for work, or he...tells her he's helping his alcoholic coworker."

Audrey huffs incredulously. "Help you what? Put your feet behind your ears?"

I sigh, "You said you'd stay out of it."

"Yeah and I am...so, they think you're like dating him, or something?"

"Sort of."

"Oh my god." She puts her hand on her forehead.

I rub my arm, glancing towards the window. "Look, just butt out, okay? I'm not gonna build anyone's hopes up of the two of us marrying, or...whatever."

Audrey scoffs, chuckling. "Well, no shit. Can't marry someone who's already married."

I bite my lip. "He said he won't leave his wife and I told him I didn't want him to."

She looks me over. "What?"

I heavily exhale, walking to my bed. "When we chaperoned that trip to D.C., I told him that I loved him and he said that he loved me, too."

"You love him?"

"Yes, I...love him," I feel somewhat embarrassed for telling my sister that, "I wasn't planning on it, alright, it just happened. Anyway, we both agreed that we couldn't be anymore than what we are now."

"And you're okay with that?" She stands almost in front of me. "With being the other woman?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"What?" Audrey practically shouts. "What are you fucking talking about?" You do have a choice! It's called choosing to break things off with him, so you can be in a relationship with someone who doesn't make you second best."

"I'm not second best."

"Then what the fuck are you?" She puts her hands out. "He obviously loves his wife, even if he apparently has a funny ass way of showing it. He's not gonna leave her, but is gonna continue sneaking around behind her back with you, because he loves you?"

I lick my lips, looking away. "Drop it."

"What happens when she finds out, huh?"

"Audrey!" I snap, gazing up at her. "Fucking drop it, alright?"

She rolls her eyes. "Exactly."

"You know, I know you think he's a dick, but Negan's helped me a lot, okay?" I stand up from the bed. "I might not even have gotten sober, or stayed sober, if it weren't for him."

"That doesn't mean you should let him string you along."

"He doesn't!" I fire back.

"Whatever," She turns to leave, "Let's go back downstairs."

I wait a few moments, trying to cool off before I head back down. Part of me knows she's right, but another part of me is fuming. I run my hand through my hair, stealing a glance at myself in the stand mirror. I need another cigarette.

I trudge down the stairs and go to my purse in the living room for my pack. I know I have to quit sometime, but now's not the time. I fish out the lighter I stuck in the pocket of my shorts as I head to the porch swing out front.

The smell of smoke already greets me as I step out and I quickly realize it's because Dwight's sitting on the porch steps. Fucking great. I go over to the swing and light up irritably. He stands up and walks over, flicking ash from his cigarette.

"Can I sit?"

I look at the spot next to me, before nodding. "Yeah."

Dwight sits down on the vacant space, putting his cigarette up to his lips. "I thought you were gonna stop seeing him?"

I exhale, "I never agreed to that."

He scoffs, "I thought we-"

"We didn't discuss it, so don't say we did," I interject, taking another drag, "You said you were thinking about leaving Sherry and then we had sex...again. That's all. Nothing was set in stone."

Dwight sighs through his nose, which causes smoke to exit his nostrils. "So, you're not gonna stop seeing him?"

I lick my lips, staring out. "I'll stop seeing him when you make good on leaving Sherry, who didn't send her regards, so don't treat me like I'm stupid."

"I already told you I was going to," He says, on edge, "I just need-"

"Time?"

"Yeah."

I bitterly chuckle. "Time's easy to waste when it's someone else's."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I flick my cigarette and stand up. "Nothing, never mind."

I walk back inside and go upstairs to my bedroom. This is why I fucking hate my birthday. I would have been just as happy doing something alone with Jolyon, way fucking happier. I know my mom doesn't know, but I'm so mad she invited them. I reach into my back pocket and dial Negan's number. He'll probably be pissed and lecture me on how I can't call him when he's at home, but I really want a drink right now and I just need a little help.

It rings twice and then goes straight to voicemail. Great, he's not gonna pick up. I listen to his wiseass voicemail message and then wait for the tone.

"Hey, it's me," I say, "I know you're probably pissed that I called. Hopefully, Lucille wasn't right there..." I bite my lips, exhaling, "Look, I'm sorry I called, I just...needed to talk to you for a quick second. I'm sort of having one of those trying moments right now and I just thought maybe you could talk me down, but it's fine. I'll be fine. I'm with my parents and sis-"

The beep goes off to indicate that I've ran my mouth too much. I hang up the phone, hoping I'll at least get a text message in a little bit. My bedroom door creaks open and I turn my head to see Dwight in the doorway. My mother's laugh rises from outside.

"What are you doing?"

"I-"

"You can't be up here," I sharply tell him in a low voice, "Our parents are outside."

"Relax," He scoffs, "I didn't come up here to play grab ass with you."

"Well, what do you want? I kind of came up here to be alone."

"At your own party?"

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to," I wryly retort, "Now get out. I'll be down in a minute."

"Pip," He exhales, running his hand down his face, "Listen, I know you think I'm lying to you about Sherry, but I-"

"Dwight, I really don't want to talk about it right now, okay? It's my birthday, so don't make it about yours and Sherry's rocky marriage."

He licks his lips. "Okay." He glances around the room. "It looks exactly the same."

I huff. "Yeah, my mom's keeping a shrine of the old, good Pippa."

Dwight looks back at me from the other side of the room. "You didn't die."

"Part of me did," I say below my breath, "But it doesn't matter now. I'm...cool now. Out of the ashes like...a phoenix, or some shit."

He inspects the necklace that hangs from the little tree on the dresser. "Yeah, I've noticed."

I look over. Now, or never. I take a deep breath. "Dwight, I-"

"No way!" A smile rises up on his face as he steps to the turntable. "I remember this thing!"

I watch him lean over to the magazine rack that holds all the records my parents gave me along with their old turntable when I was about twelve. Dwight pulls up a record.

"This was your favorite, right?" He holds up Billie Holiday.

I can't help but smile a little. "Yeah."

He looks over the record and then at me. "Do you mind?"

"Um, I..." I exhale, relenting, "Sure."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

He puts the record on the turntable and turns it on, before carefully placing the needle on it. The old sound begins to play in my old room. We stand, listening. It breeds both good memories and not so good ones. I feel nostalgically melancholy.

"It's funny," I remark, "I played this same song fourteen years ago on this same day."

Dwight gazes over.

I meets his eyes. "After you broke up with me."

His eyes fall. "Sorry for the shitty timing."

I breathe, shrugging my shoulders. "You were a kid and it was a long time ago." I knit my brows a little at the thought. "It was a long time ago."

Dwight picks up his eyes to look at me again. "Do you remember when you use to bring me up here to dance?"

I snicker fondly, blinking towards him. "It wasn't really dancing. It was more like holding each other and swaying back and forth."

"Isn't that what dancing is?"

I smile, "I just wanted you to be close to you."

Dwight smiles back. "I know."

I hesitate for a moment, before I take a few steps to him. He studies me as I come closer, but gently encloses me in his arms when I shyly wrap mine under his. I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I love you, Pippa." Dwight breathes through his hair.

I close my eyes as he very lightly sways me. I never can stay mad at him. "I love you, too."

He plants a kiss on my head. He smells good, but he always does, always has. I know it's likely a mistake and that I said I wouldn't lead him around, but this is different. It's just a dance; a healing motion that could relieve all the years I've spent pining and crying over what really was a long time ago.

The music makes me emotional. This song gets me every damn time. I let out a soft breath against him. "I would've named her Billie."

Dwight rubs my back. "The baby?"

"Mhm."

He leans back a little, so he can look at me. "She would've been beautiful," He brushes a tear from my eye, "Like you."

I smile and let my eyes close as he kisses me.

The slider door to the backyard draws open. "Mom?"

I open my eyes again as he breaks the kiss. I gaze up at him as the song comes to an end.

"Mom!"

"Yeah?" I call down.

"Where are you?" Jolyon yells.

I look back at Dwight as we part. "I'm coming."

"Hurry!" Jol alerts me. "It's time to open your presents!" By presents, he means the birthday cards from my parents and Audrey's family.

"Okay!" I glance over Dwight. "I guess we better head down."

"Yeah."

I lead the way to the door.

"Hey, Pip?"

I turn my head his way as I open the door. "Yeah?"

Dwight scratches his brow. "Uh, maybe, if you want, I could maybe come by your place later."

I stare as blunt reality hits me. What the fuck is wrong with me? I look down at the floor, remorseful. "Um, well, actually I'm spending the night here."

"Oh, you are?"

"Yeah," I nod, dishonest, "My sister's family is here and Jolyon doesn't see them very often, so we thought it'd be fun to sleepover."

"Oh," He nods, too, disappointed, "Okay."

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay," Dwight tucks some hair behind his ear, "I'll, uh, call you later."

My meekly smile. "Sure."

"Okay." He smiles back, letting out an escaped chuckle.

I laugh a little. "What?"

"I don't know," He shrugs, "I just love being around you. You're beautiful; I love you."

I look at him feeling a sudden breathlessness. "I love you, too."

He strides over and kisses me, taking my face in his hands. "Just give me some time, okay? I promise I won't waste it."

My mouth sits open, struggling to tell him that I can't commit to him, while also wanting to push him back onto my bed and feel him inside me. "D, I-"

"Come on, Mom!"

Dwight kisses me again, before exiting my old bedroom, while I stand there wanting to fucking kick myself. Cowardly slut.

 **...**

"Are you giving Lourdes that birthday cake?"

"Mhm," I nod, looking briefly at the hunk of cake saran wrapped on a plate on the passenger's side, "Think she'll like it?"

"Yeah, she likes to eat a lot."

I snicker, "Well, please don't mention that to her."

"Why?"

"Because it might hurt her feelings."

"Why?"

"Because she doesn't like it when people mention that she eats a lot, so mind your manners."

"Okay," He agrees from the backseat, "Are you gonna show her the gift we got you?"

"When she comes over to the house," I smile, switching lanes, "But I'll tell her all about it when I get to work."

"Okay...and Negan?"

"Negan said you told him already."

"No, I didn't."

"You didn't tell him about the picture?"

"No, I told him it was a secret."

"Oh," I nod, "Alrighty." That fucking liar.

I'm a little pissed to be honest. I don't want to sound like a needy, or demanding twat, but I didn't hear a fucking word from him the whole weekend. I know he was home with his wife for the weekend, but I did leave a message he never responded to. He usually gets back to me, even if it's to tell me to fuck off via text message.

After I drop Jolyon off at Happy Hands, I've got about twenty minutes before bell. I scan the parking lot for Negan's Mustang, but don't see it. He could be running late, I guess.

In the break room, Lourdes sits at a table, reading a magazine while she chews a blueberry muffin. "Morning."

She looks up, "Morning!"

"I brought you some leftover birthday cake," I set the plate down, "Don't worry about returning the plate; it's paper."

"Oh, you shouldn't have," She set down her muffin, "I've been trying to lay off the sugar."

"Oh, well, I can give it to Negan."

Lourdes peels back the saran wrap. "What kind of cake is it?"

"Lemon with buttercream frosting and coconut flakes," I smile as she steals a dollop of frosting off the side, "And rainbow sprinkles, because Jolyon insisted."

"Mm," She tastes it, "Well, I guess, I'll split it with Simon at home."

"Sure thing," I grab a muffin from the plastic container, "How was your weekend?"

"It's was fine," She breaks a soft piece from the cake, "Simon worked all weekend."

"Oh, so what'd you do?"

"I got a wax and got my nails done," Lourdes casually tells me, "You know, because I was under the impression that we were doing something special when he got home, but he didn't get home until after two, so I took care of myself and set my alarm for four."

Our coworker glances over at her, until she looks at him and he bashfully leaves the room.

I wait for him to go. "Why did you set your alarm for four in the morning?"

"Because he was drunk and trying to sleep," She eats more of the cake, "I kept hitting the snooze button, until he pulled the clock out of the wall and threw it." She chuckles. "Then I took the breath strip off my nose, so I'd snore."

I laugh. "Where's Negan?"

"Don't know," Lour shrugs, "Maybe in his office."

"I've been trying to call him all weekend."

"While he was at home?"

"Well, I just called once and left a message and then texted him twice yesterday."

"You can't call him while mama's home," She snickers, "I learned that the hard way."

I bite my lip, "I know, but I just needed to talk to him for minute."

"Yeah, well, he's a married man, chica. He's only yours for a few hours a day."

I pick back the paper off my muffin. "Yeah..."

Diane walks in to make some coffee. "Boy, I tell you; that Negan is a real heel."

"Language, Di," Lourdes snickers, "What'd the asshole do now?"

"Oh, he's not coming in today," She gripes, "I had to scour the sub-list all morning to find someone to stand in for him and the only one who can make it can't come until third period, so guess who's standing in for first and second?"

"Wow, Negan calling out?" Lourdes raises her brows. "Who died?"

"He said to use a sick day, but he didn't sound too sick," Diane rolls her eyes, "He was just short and rude with me."

"Tell him to bring a note."

"We can't do that, unless he's missed three days of work," She stirs her coffee, walking out, "I gotta go get the spare keys to his office. See ya, girls."

"Bye **."**

I watch her go. "You think he's really sick?"

Lourdes shrugs as she picks at the cake. "I don't know...but it must be something, if he called out. Negan never calls out."

"Yeah." I reach into my purse for my phone. Still no word; now I'm starting to get worried.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! If this chapter feels like a bit of a filler, it's because I had so much going on this week, I barely had time to work on it. I feel bad, because it always seems like my busy weeks are on the weeks that FYIWAF falls on. But there's plenty of drama to come.**

 **CLTex: Yeah, Pip's not perfect and at least she realizes the damage she's done and will do. Lol, she may not be too silly about Lourdes' friendliness. I also enjoy Negan and Pippa's conversation about their relationship. It's heartbreaking and brings up the discomforting, realistic nature of their affair.**

 **Moorish Woe: Haha! I suppose Emmy Rossum does look like she could fit the part of a TWD character, as well as Pippa, if Pippa were white. I know it's hard to separate the two Dwights, but the SY Dwight is much nicer and way better relationship material than the SY Negan. I'm curious, were you rooting for SY Negan up until he gave Nan the ultimatum, or was there another turning point?**

 **Kara315:Yeah, Negan's sort of a possessive hypocrite on that end and he can hardly help it. Lol, I think you might be one of the few that can't decided which team your on. Most are team Negan, but I can see how some people might like Dwight. He's not intentionally bad for Pippa, nor is he meaning to use her. He's just got a heavier conscience than Negan.**

 **Spotty11: I'm glad you enjoy the story! And thank you for such kind words! I'm happy I'm not the only one who think I'm funny (lol jk). I post FYIWAF chapters every other week, because I also have another TWD fic that write, so I try to give them equal time. You bring up an interesting point about Negan's infidelity. Is his love for Pippa superficial, even beyond his knowledge? It's hard to say for Negan because I feel he is such a complex character. As for Pippa, I think that he really does believe he loves her and that could very well be the truth. Why and how he justifies infidelity, I haven't quite drawn out yet, but as for now his love for Pippa and her son are sincere to Negan. I would love to explore that more though.**


	42. Chapter 42

I blow the whistle. "Switch stations!"

All the girls on the varsity softball team move from one part of the field to another, guided by the orange cones I set up after school. It's hotter than hell out here, so I'm not being a hard ass on them like a certain assistant coach who called out today. I even brought them waters and popsicles for afterwards.

"Mom, how much longer?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Is that a long time?" Jolyon asks from the shaded part of the bleachers.

"No, it's not long," I climb the steps, "You bored?"

"Yeah."

"'Cause Negan's not here?"

"Yeah," He says again, while sitting backwards on the steps so he can color, "He makes everything funner."

"Funner is not a word," I muss his hair, "And are you saying I'm no fun?"

"Kind of."

"Hey!" I laugh, "What's Negan got that I don't?"

"He plays catch with me."

"Well, we can play catch."

Jolyon looks over at me. "Can you throw like he can?"

"Uh, I can throw better than he can."

"Really?"

"Totally," I nod to his glove, "Grab your glove."

"Okay!"

My son and I go down to the field with the glove and baseball that Negan gave him. I grab a glove from the school equipment that fits my hand.

"You ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay." Instead of getting in softball stance, I just stay forward and lightly toss it to him underhand.

He picks it up and tosses it back.

"Nice throw!" I praise as I walk halfway to pick it up.

"Throw it, Mom!" Jolyon yells. "Far this time!"

"Far? Like how Negan throws it?"

"Yeah, like Negan!"

"Okay." I move into pitching position and bring my arm swiftly in cycle, letting it fly. I laugh as I watch him run after it. I check the stopwatch I got from Negan's office.

"Catch!" Jolyon says breathlessly.

I retrieve the ball and throw it further to past him.

After the twenty minutes is up, I call the players in to end practice for the day. Jolyon has a blast collecting all the cones, as usual, so it makes clean up go by quicker. I let him have a leftover popsicle as a reward for being such a big help.

As we walk to the parking lot, I notice a few faculty cars still in the parking lot. Lourdes must have gone home finally. I don't know what's going on with her and Simon, but she's been staying after work pretty much everyday for as long as she can.

"Hold up," I tell Jolyon right before he opens the door to the back, "You're gonna finish that popsicle before you get into my car."

"But I want to go home."

"Well, then hurry up and finish it."

"I'll get a brain freeze!"

I shrug. "You're not in getting my car with it."

"You let me eat in the car all the time."

"Not ice cream, or popsicles."

"Not fair."

I laugh, "I know, I'm the meanest mom in the world."

"No, you're the nicest," Jolyon says, slurping the melted bottom dripping onto his hand, "Is Negan gonna be here tomorrow?"

"I don't know, but I sure hope so."

"I miss him."

I snicker, smiling. "He's only been gone for one day. He's allowed to call out from work, too."

"Yeah, but it's boring here without him."

"I thought we had fun just now?"

"It's not the same without Negan."

I put my hand over my heart. "Slain by my only son."

"I'm sorry," He tells me with a chuckle, "Don't be sad."

"I'll try to pull through."

"Okay. What's for dinner?"

"Hm...how about we do something special tonight?"

"Like what?"

"Well, we usually spend my birthday together, just the two of us, and we didn't get to do that this year, did we?"

"No, because we had a party instead," Jolyon licks the juice off the plain popsicle stick, "Didn't you like it?"

"I did, but I think I like it better when it's just us two," I get into my purse for a wet wipe, "So, how about we grab a quick a bite and then see what's playing at the movies?"

"Can we go to that one where we get to sit in the car, so we can talk and I can sit up in the front?"

"Sure."

"Yay! Let's go!"

 **...**

I didn't sleep too well last night. It might have been Jolyon's clingy limbs, but I think it was because I laid up worried sick about Negan. I'd give anything for him to bite my head off for calling him at home, if he'd just fucking call back, or show his face.

Lourdes' vibrant laugh enters the break room before she does. Someone got laid last night. Let's just hope it was by the guy that's gonna replace that mustachioed asshole.

"You poor baby!" She cackles as I miserably stir my coffee.

"The least he could've done was buy me dinner afterwards."

I look up at the cupboard when I hear his voice.

"Or massaged your thighs a little," Lourdes giggles snottily, "That would've relaxed you."

I turn around when both she and fucking Negan waltz into the break room together. What the fuck? Our eyes immediately meet.

"Morning, Miss Barnes."

I scoff, "You don't have a scratch on you."

"Pardon me?"

I look between them. "Nothing." I walk out of the break room with my cup of fresh brewed garbage.

"Pip, hold up." Negan follows behind.

"I don't want to be late for class."

"We've got like thirty minutes."

"Well, I have some stuff I need to do." I stick my key into the door of my classroom, angrily unlocking it.

Negan holds the door open after I go in, so he can enter the classroom behind me. "What's wrong with you?"

"I didn't sleep well last night." I set all my stuff down.

"Why not?"

I huff, putting my closed hand on my hip as I look right at him. "Why haven't you been answering my calls? Or my messages?"

"I dropped my phone outside in my driveway and it broke; had to get a new one."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Negan scoffs, "But even if that weren't true, why the fuck were you calling me at home?"

"Because I needed to talk to you." I lower my voice, after almost losing my cool. "Where were you yesterday?"

He strolls along the rows of desks. "Am I not allowed to take days off?"

"Diane said you called out sick."

"I took a sick day." He replies casually.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Negan walks around to my desk, "Were you worried about me?"

"A little, yes," I fold my arms, "Were you sick?"

"Kiss me and find out."

I put a hand out to his chest when he goes to kiss me. "Then what's up?"

"Nothing's up, Pip," Negan grins like I'm a silly hen, "I just needed the day off, so I called out sick."

"Well...what were you talking about just now with Lourdes?"

"I'm afraid that's classified," He snakes his hand around to the small of my back, "Above your pay grade."

I turn my head when he tries to kiss me again. "That's not funny. I want to know."

"Ask Lourdes, then."

I glance up at him, trying not to let my lips pout. "I was really worried about you for the last couple days."

"Well, fret the fuck not, because I'm alive and well," He leans down and kisses behind my ear, "And frisky."

"Horny's more like it," I push on him, so he'll ease up, "But seriously, where were you?"

Negan rolls his eyes. "I was at the doctor's."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Jesus," He groans, "I just had a routine physical."

"And it took all day?"

"No, but I took the day anyway."

"Why?" I press further, "You didn't faint when they took your blood, did you?"

He chuckles, "No, I didn't fuckin' pass out, asshole."

"Then why were you gone the whole day?"

"Uh, I really don't think the woman who's called out sick plenty of times, because she had a nasty hangover, should really be asking for a fucking doctor's note."

"I'm not asking for doctor's note, I..." I shrug my shoulders, "I just was concerned when you missed practice."

"Concerned that we're gonna get creamed on Friday?"

I sigh, "Actually, the girls took a vote and came to the conclusion that I'm the superior coach."

Negan laughs, drawing me close again.

"I think they're getting a petition, or something together to ban you from the practices and games due to your lack of knowing what you're doing. For the betterment of the team."

"Shut the fuck up." Negan snickers, pecking my lips.

"And Jolyon said I'm a better pitcher."

"You fuckin' harpy."

I break into a chuckle. "I guess you'll just have to catch from now on."

"Keep talking and I'll fuckin' show who's better at pitching."

I smile, humored. "You're really okay?"

"I'm better than okay," He slides his hand down a little, "I'm fan-fucking-tastic."

I nod my head. "So, was the doctor impressed that a man your age could look as devastating as you?"

"Yeah, so much so that he put his finger up my ass."

I furrow my brows. "What?"

"I had a fucking prostate exam, stupid."

My brows rise into my forehead. "Ooh!"

"Yeah," He scoffs, "I've been getting letters in the mail about it for months and Lucille, who's a total fucking hypocrite, told me to put on my best cologne and go already."

"So, you took the day off to...sit on a bag of frozen peas?"

Negan laughs out, "Fuck you."

I laugh with him. "That's why you took the day off? To muster up your courage to go?"

"No, but I didn't exactly want to come to work and wonder all fucking day of whether or not I'll get turned on."

I unintentionally snort. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I never had someone put their finger in my ass before," Negan chuckles, "I wasn't sure I'd totally hate it."

"Did you ask the doctor for his number afterwards?"

"Yeah, but he's married and I think he's one of those faithful types you're always hearing about."

I laugh at his joke, "Well, if you want, I really could pitch you a few."

"Don't get me going, baby." He kisses me.

"Mm, well, your absence has left me a little empty inside."

"Not for long." Negan puts his other hand around me, embracing me.

I snicker against his lips. "You really know how to woo a dame."

"Just fast dames like you," He steps forward, making me step back, "Feeling up for a quickie?"

"Mm," I sit myself up on my desk as he kisses me, "Yeah, I am."

Negan chuckles. "Man, I should call out more often. You never want to have sex before work."

"Well, I...I was worried about you."

He takes my face in his hands, smiling before he lays his lips on mine. "Next time just cool your tits, instead of having a fuckin' conniption."

"Will do," I put my arms around his neck, "So, did you get turned on?"

"Nah, turns out Dr. Lanyon didn't have the magic touch," Negan slides his hand up my leg, "I don't think he lubed up his gloved digit enough."

I laugh by his ear. "Well, you should've told him it was your first time."

"God, that's what Lu said."

"Great minds think alike."

"You two can go fuck yourselves."

I chuckle, stroking the back of his head. "If you wanted to be coddled for getting a standard fucking exam, then you need to go back to Lourdes in the break room."

"Oh, didn't you hear?" His fingers move under my panties. "We're getting back together."

"Over my dead body."

Negan laughs, using one hand to tug at his belt. "You don't want to share?"

"No, I don't."

"You remember that I'm a married man, right?"

I feel my heart get a little snagged on that. "I didn't forget...but that's different."

"It's not that different."

I exhale, "You want this to happen or not?"

"I do, very much so."

"Then drop it."

"My pants, or the subject?"

"Negan."

"Alright, alright," Negan brings me closer, pulling down my underwear the rest of the way, "Batter's up."

 **...**

"Do I still smell like the pool?"

Lourdes leans over. "Let me get a whiff," She smells his hair, "Mm, a little bit."

"That means I have to wash my hair tonight when I take a bath."

"Yeah, I bet," She smiles, "And then you'll smell good."

Jolyon nods his head, dipping a fry into some ketchup. "Yeah."

"Jol, don't just eat your fries," I chime in, "I wanna see you eat your chicken tenders."

"Okay."

Lourdes smiles softly as she watches him. She ordered a BLT, but hasn't touched it, or the fries that came with it since it arrived at our table.

"Is something wrong with your food?" I ask her.

"Hm?" She glances my way. "Oh, no, there's nothing wrong. I just am not that hungry."

"Well, then why'd you ask me to meet you here after Jol's swim class?"

She shrugs, "I didn't feel like going home yet."

I pause from taking a bite of my sandwich. "...Have you been home at all since you left work?"

"No, I got my nails done and then went to the grocery store."

"You didn't buy anything that will go bad in your car, right?"

"I bought some ice cream, but I'm sure it'll be fine once I stick it in the freezer and it refreezes."

I look at her, a little concerned. I'll admit that when she called and wanted us to meet her at this little sandwich place for dinner, I was sort of annoyed, although I agreed to come. I think I let my mild suspicions about her sudden friendliness towards Negan get to me and it didn't occur to me until now that maybe there's a reason she doesn't want to go home. I mean, who buys ice cream and then just lets it sit in the trunk of their car because they "didn't feel" like going home?

"How's Simon?"

"Fine."

I nod, "Is he working late, or something?"

I always want to scoff whenever we talk about his work like it's a regular nine to five.

"Um, I don't know," She shrugs nonchalantly, "I haven't really talked to him today, except for this morning before I left."

"Oh..."

"Hey, when do you wanna go out for your birthday?"

"I don't know," I answer, "What did you have in mind? Because I'm living the sober life now."

"Oh, probably just the same cantina we went to the last time, but we don't have to drink. We could just have dinner and hang out." Lourdes taps her finger on the table. "Or, we could do whatever you want."

I nod my head, "Okay...how about next Friday? We've got a game this coming Friday."

"Okay, sounds good."

I look up at her from my plate. "Um, do you think Simon might go with us?"

She looks at me. "Do you not want him to?"

I glance at Jolyon for a moment. "Well...it doesn't matter. If you want him to go, you can invite him."

"So, you don't want him to go?"

I shrug. "Not really."

She bites her lip. "You don't like him, do you?"

I inhale and then exhale. "No, not really."

Lourdes scoffs under her breath. "Why not?"

"Well...because I don't think he's a good guy and I don't think he's all that great to you."

"You don't really know him all that well."

"Maybe not, but I've seen enough of him to know that I don't like him," I reply back, "Or you've told me things that make me not want to like him. And what happened on the trip, I-"

"That was nothing," Lourdes nearly snaps, "We got into a fight before I left, it was no big deal."

"If it was a no big deal, then why were you in such a bad mood the time?" I ask her, "I mean, you're good at bouncing back when you think something's 'no big deal'."

"I was in a bad mood, because you and Negan turned that field trip into a fucking honeymoon."

I huff, "Well, if you were so pissed, then why the fuck were you only angry at me and not Negan?"

"I was pissed at Negan, but you're my friend, Pippa," She rests her back against the booth, folding her arms, "I warned you about him and you just keep running around like a love drunk idiot."

"If you don't fucking trust him and you think he's such asshole, then why you are suddenly interested in being his friend?"

Lourdes laughs bitterly. "I'm not."

"Oh, really?" I chuckle back, derisive. "Then why the fuck are you joking with him, and laughing with him, and wanting to go to lunch with us?"

"Is it a crime to want to spend time with my friend?" She snottily asks, "You're always with the gym teacher, so I thought I'd be an adult and get over how badly he treated me, despite not ever getting a fucking apology."

"Mom, pass the ketchup."

I give Jolyon the ketchup bottle and he gives it to Lourdes, so she can pat it out of the bottle for him. I scratch my nose, irritated. "So, you're just being nice to him, because you want to hang out?"

Lourdes peers over at me, raising a brow. She scoffs, "You think I'm trying to get back into his pants?"

I avert my eyes back to my sandwich, unsure.

She laughs out, "Por favor, you think I'd need to butter him up to get him to bend me over?"

"Would you shut the fuck up?" I bark, "My son's sitting next to you."

Lourdes rolls her eyes. "So, you think I want to sleep with him?"

"I...I don't know."

"So, yes."

"...Would you? If he made a pass?"

She blinks her sharp eyes on me. "What does it matter? He's married and he sure as hell ain't married to you."

I lick my lips, "Is that a yes?"

"Why the fuck-"

"Because I love him and he..." I grow quiet for a moment as I realize what I've just admitted to her, "Said I was the only one...aside from Lucille, of course."

Lourdes stares. "You love him?"

"Yes, I do."

"...And did he tell you he loved you back?"

"In D.C."

"Dios mio," She chuckles, shaking her head, "And you believed him?"

"Yes, I did," I admit, "And I still do."

"Okay, so, you just completely ignored what I told you about Negan then," She crosses her arms again, "He's lying to you, Pippa. Did you not her a word of what I told you about him and I?"

"Yeah, I did, but maybe this a little different of a situation."

She rolls her eyes again. "I'm sure."

I stick my tongue in my cheek. "You know what? Let's just drop it."

"Fine by me," She glances off, "If you wanna be made a fool of, that's your business."

"I'm not gonna be made a fool of, so leave it alone."

She huffs into a chuckle, like she knows better. "Okay, whatever."

I bite my lip. "Look, I know that this is a go nowhere relationship, but I don't care. Aside from Jolyon, he's the one person who makes me feel special."

"Yeah, well, we'll see how special you feel in a few months from now, when Lucille finally catches on," She retorts, "See how much your love means to him then."

"You know, at least he says he loves me," I bite back, "Even if it's just bullshit sweet nothings, at least I hear it. When's the last time Simon ever said he loved you?"

Lourdes turns her head forward to look at me.

"Everything nice he says about you is almost always backhanded, or coupled with something rude," I go on, "And I have never once heard him say anything that would indicate he cared for you."

"Fuck you," She snidely says, "So, he's not outwardly affectionate; you don't know he's like when we're alone."

"Maybe not, but I've had you on my couch enough times to get a picture."

She groans. "Couples fight sometimes, Pippa. You'd know, if you were in an actual relationship, instead of being some side bitch."

"Look who the fuck's talking," I huff, noticing Jolyon start to look over, "I might not be in a real relationship, but at least I'm not with a prick who doesn't want the same things as me."

Lourdes furrows her brows in slight confusion.

"I mean, do you really think he's gonna change his mind about marriage? About kids?" I almost hold my tongue, but I don't. "He's not gonna build a life with you and you know it; he's a piece of shit drug dealer, who wants a warm bed and woman to screw while loaded."

Lourdes just stares at me for a moment. Shit, maybe I went too far just now. She inhales, before flipping her plate. "Go fuck yourself, Pippa."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, bebé." Lourdes tells Jolyon as she grabs up her purse and storms out of the restaurant.

I sit there, half wanting to go after and apologize and half sore about all that she said to me.

"Why did she do that, Mom?"

"Because she got mad at me."

"She made a mess," Jolyon points at the tossed food on the table, "The lady's gonna think I did it."

"She is not." I put my hand up to try and get the waitress to come over.

"Yes, she is," Jolyon insists, "She's gonna think it was me, because I'm a kid and kid's spill things sometimes."

"Well, I'll tell her that it was Lourdes being a big baby, okay?" I look up at the clock on the wall. "Hurry up and finish your dinner."

 **...**

"Oh, god, Negan," I grip the edge of his desk, "Fuck!"

Negan holds me by the hips as he roughly thrusts in and out at me. "Who's the better pitcher now?"

"Shut up." I breathlessly reply. My breathing rises and rises, until I sharply moan. "Ah!"

Negan keeps going, which only drives me body up the wall. "Jesus."

"Don't stop."

"Fuck." He curses under his breath, before abruptly flinching. He groans a dragged, "Fuck!"

I feel my insides spasm around his cock. "Goddamn."

Negan chuckles as he regains his breath. He pulls out of me, smoothing a hand across my hip and towards my right butt cheek. _Crack!_

I flinch, more surprised by the smack, than the after sting. "What the fuck did I say about spanking?"

"Nothing," He says, followed by the sound of his chair creaking, "You said no biting; you didn't say a damn thing about smacking you on the ass."

I straighten up, fixing my underwear. "Well, mark this as the day that I tell you not to fucking smack me on the ass again."

"Or else what?"

"Or else, I'll give you blue balls for a month."

"Oh, now that's just cruel," Negan chuckles, suddenly putting his arm around me and bringing me towards him, "What's wrong with a little harmless tap on the derrière?"

I struggle for a second to get off his lap. "It makes me feel like a piece of meat."

He kisses my neck. "You mean to tell me, you don't get the least bit turned on?"

"No, it just pisses me off."

"Fine, I won't bruise your cheeks."

"Let go of me."

"Just sit here for a second," He says, "Maybe we'll get lucky and the heat between your legs will get us a round two."

"You're a dog."

Negan plants another kiss under my ear. "Woof."

I can't help but chuckle. "Oh, my god."

"I can't believe our food's not here yet," Negan checks the clock on his computer, "I told that asshole what time to deliver."

"Well, you're not the only person on lunch right now," I prop my feet up on his desk, reclining against him, "They're probably a little behind on deliveries. They'll get here before bell."

"They better, or else I'm not tipping the delivery boy."

"You most certainly fucking will," I tell him, "You never don't tip someone, you rude motherfucker."

"What if their service is shitty?"

"Leave 'em at least a dollar, I guess."

"Whatever you fucking say."

My phone alerts me of a message from the inside of my purse on the floor. "Let me up, so I can get that."

"Are you gonna sit back down?"

"Yeah, I will, even though I feel like a child on Santa's lap," I retort as he releases me, "And don't even crack a Santa joke."

"Alright, but you're gonna want what's in my sack later on and I'm not sure you'll make the nice list."

"Nobody wants what's in your sack, trust me." I look at my phone as I sit back down on his lap. "Oh, fuck."

"What?"

I exhale, tilting my head back. "It's Caroline."

"Your almost mother in law?"

"One, fuck yourself and two, yes."

"What does she want?"

"We made plans to meet at this place in Barton after work."

"And you forgot?"

"Yes, but I also don't have a babysitter."

"Where's mom and pop?"

"They're going out to dinner with some friend tonight," I answer, "Fuck, what am I gonna do?"

"Ask Lourdes."

"I did and she agreed, but as of two nights ago, she's no longer available."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Negan scoffs.

I mull over telling him for a second, but decided not to. "It means something came up and she can't watch him."

"That sucks," Negan moves his arm from under me and wraps it around to the arm rest, "Don't you have a sister?"

"She lives in Richmond."

"Fuck...I guess you could just take the little scamp with you."

"I think she wanted to talk in private," I sigh, staring down at the message," I guess, I'm gonna have to reschedule."

"Well, hold on now," Negan puts his hand up, "Don't cancel your plans just yet."

"I don't have someone to watch Jolyon."

"I could watch him for you."

I snicker, thinking he's joking. "Right, good one."

Negan chuckles. "I'm being serious, asshole."

I look at him. "Really?"

He grins at the look on my face. "Yeah, it'll only be for like a hour, or two, right? Nothing I can't handle."

"And what about Lucille?" I inquire, "What are you gonna tell her?"

"That we're watching your kid for little bit," Negan simply replies, "I'm sure she won't mind."

" _We're_?" I arch my brow. "As in we, as in you and her?"

"Boy, you're hot on the trail," He snickers, "Yeah, Pippa, I mean Lu and I."

I observe him for a moment more. "Have you lost your marbles?"

"No, you're sitting on 'em."

"Well, at least you admit they're not as big as you brag."

Negan laughs throatily, "Well, now you can go fuck yourself."

I cackle with a slight rasp. "Come on, dude, be serious; you can't watch Jolyon."

"Why the hell not?" He furrows his brows, jokingly offended. "I've watched him for you an ass load of times."

"Yeah, while I was in the same building."

"He's four and, despite being raised by you, is well-mannered and polite," He shrugs under me, "It'll be a piece of cake."

"Are you forgetting that Jolyon has an innocent tendency to spill the beans?"

Negan glances down, possibly remembering that time I was in the hospital. "So...give him twenty bucks to keep quiet."

I scoff, incredulously. "You want me to bribe my son with twenty dollars?"

"Ten?"

I laugh, "Negan!"

"What? You don't think it'd work?"

"No, I think it's icky to pay off my four year old."

"But I bet he won't speak a word of our family time, if he had ten bucks in his pocket."

I go to laugh again, but instead I pause, gazing at him. "What did you-"

An abrupt knock startles me off his lap as if it were on fire.

"Calm your tits," He chuckles at me, "It's probably just the guy with our burgers."

Negan, cool and calm, gets up and walks to the door, while I fix my dress, flustered.

"I got an order for Negan?" The guy says with a greasy, white paper bag in his hand.

"That would be me," Negan reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, "How much do I owe again?"

"Twenty dollars and sixty-three cents."

"Alright, although I don't know why I'm paying at all, considering you were fuckin' late," Negan jokes as he fishes for exact change, "Relax, I'm joking. Here."

"Thanks."

Negan takes the bag. "Hey, babe, you wanna tip the man?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," I go for my purse, "Give me a minute."

I pull out three dollars from the pocket on the inside of my purse. When I turn to hand it over, I catch the dude taking in my legs.

I clear my throat. "Here's your tip."

The pimply nineteen year old's eyes blink back to focus. "What? Oh." He glances briefly at Negan and then quickly looks away. "Thank you."

"Have a nice day," Negan closes the door in his face, "Fucking limp dick."

I tuck some hair behind my ear. "That was rude."

"He fucking shouldn't have been looking at you that way."

"You look at me that way."

"Yeah, but that's because you're a phenomenal woman, not a fuckin' pair of legs," He walks back to his chair with the bag, "Although you do have legs I love to feel against my dick."

"Oh, you were so close," I dryly say as I sit down in the seat on the other side of his desk, "You started off real good, but then you just fucked it all over with that last thing."

"Like that didn't make your pussy twinge just now." He reaches into the bag.

"I think you meant cringe, dear." I unwrap my burger.

"So?"

I look up. "So what?"

"Are you gonna cancel your plans, or is Jolyon gonna be ten dollars richer?"

 **...**

The place has that ever-pleasant aroma of coffee. I had been once before, years ago, and pretty much forgotten that it existed until now. It's one of Caroline's favorites, one that she took Dwight and I to when were kids, while she was running errands. I remember her ordering a lobster tail and being confused when I didn't see a lobster tank in this small coffee house.

I sit at a little two-person table, waiting for Caroline, who messaged me that she'd be a little late. While it's not a big deal necessarily, I feel a little anxiety roam inside me. Any minute now, I could get that phone call; the one where Negan tells me I need to come get Jolyon.

Despite feeling like a terrible person, I gave Jolyon a five-dollar bill for his silence about the affair. Being a naive and inquisitive lad, he asked why he couldn't tell Lucille that Negan sleeps over at our house. I simply told him that it was because Negan could get into trouble, because he didn't ask for Lucille's permission to spend the night. Jolyon just accepted that, looking at it at a kid's perspective, which isn't likely all that inaccurate in this case.

I'm also just flat out nervous about Jolyon being in their house. It's like a forbidden land in my mind; a bed of roses place where I would shrivel and burn like a snail under salt for trespassing. At least that's how Negan makes it sound. Well, that's how he talks about his wife, so I'm drawing conclusions here.

The door opens and in walks Caroline with her flaxen blonde curls up in a bun. "Uh, sorry I'm late!"

I get up, so she can hug me. "It's okay."

"You'd think that place would crumble without me," She sits down in the vacant chair, "I can't leave thirty minutes early without someone needing me for something."

I smile, "Well, at least you know you're important."

"Yeah, or I have employees that know they can rely on me too much," Caroline chuckles, "Last I checked, I only gave birth once."

I snicker beneath my breath. "So, I guess I don't need to ask how work went, do I?"

She laughs with a sigh. "It was long. So, what'd you order?"

"I was waiting for you."

The two of us order coffees and lobster tails up at the counter, then sit back down while the barista makes our drinks.

"How was your day?"

"It was good," I tell her, "School's almost out, so everyone's sort of gotten lazy on their homework, but you know."

She smiles, amused. "Yeah, but I bet you'll love getting to spend the next three months with your son."

I shrug, "Well, yeah, but I think I might send him out to Houston for two weeks in July."

"Oh, to be with his dad?" She smiles at the barista who delivered our coffee. "Thank you."

I nod my head. "Yeah. We haven't actually spoken about it, but I think maybe it'd be the right thing to do."

"How do you mean?" She asks, knitting her brows.

"Um, well, I've been a little unreasonable with sending Jolyon out there since we moved here and I think I need to make amends somehow."

Caroline nods. "So, are Sarah and Joe watching him right now?"

"No," I shake my head, "They made plans prior, so he's with Negan."

She glances up, while sipping her coffee. "Oh, the one I met last week at Lorelei's?"

"Yeah, him," I peek down at the leaf pattern in my foam, "Jolyon loves him and he's..."

"Good with kids?"

"Uh, he's good with my kid," I chuckle, "I think our students don't get his sense of humor."

"Hm," She nods with keen eyes, "Does he have kids of his own?"

"No."

She nods again. "Is he watching him at your place?"

"Oh, no, at his," I shake my head while chewing a bite of my pastry, "He lives in Southcastle, so it just seemed more convenient to go pick Jolyon up there, then having Negan drive all the way to Camden."

"Yeah," Caroline lightly agrees, "And, uh, is his wife okay with this whole arrangement?"

My eyes dart up from my lobster tail, taken back. "Sorry?"

She smiles in a way that looks almost sympathetic. "I noticed the wedding ring on his finger the other night at the diner."

"O-oh." Is all I say.

"I think your mother may have missed that little detail."

I just stare at her, mortified.

"Am I mistaken?" She asks, "If I am, please tell me. For I all know, he could be a widower and that ring is just a memento."

"No, his wife is alive...and well."

Caroline looks at me very candidly. "Ah, okay then."

I bite my lip like a child. "Are you-"

"I'm not gonna say anything to Sarah, or Joe," She assures me before I can even finish asking, "It's none of my business."

"Okay." I barely say.

She fiddles with an almond on her pastry. "So, his wife doesn't know, I presume?"

"No, of course not."

"Of course not," She repeats under her breath, "Well, you're a grown woman, Pippa Barnes. All I can say is keep a close eye on your heart."

"I am." I half-lie.

She nods at my words. "Good, because I...understand what it's like to be a single mother with a son and I understand what it's like to yearn for affection beyond the kind that motherhood awards you."

I sit in silence, trying not to fill the bottoms of my eyes with tears.

Caroline sighs, "I know what it's like to find someone who gives you that affection that you're looking for and who also embraces the fact that you come with a kid," She peers over with soft empathy, "I know how it feels to want to cling onto that person, because they make you feel...spectacular."

A gust of sadden air wheezes from my nose, but I hold it together.

"But the thing is, Pippa, is that the people who makes us feel the most spectacular aren't perfect," She looks at her coffee in thought, "Sometimes, those people have to hurt other people, so they can give care to us."

I nod, "Yeah."

"Yeah," Caroline smiles at me again, "And the thing about that is that eventually they're gonna hurt us, too. Even if it's not intentional, it'll happen, because when push comes to shove, they have to make a decision and it rarely is the one that won't leave us jaded."

My eyes blink down to my half-eaten pastry.

"So, how long have you and my son been having an affair?"

I urgently look up at her. "What?"

Her smile tips up. "I know what's been going on between you and Dwight."

"I-I..." I'm so devastatingly stunned, I hardly know what to say, "How did you...?"

"Sherry and Dwight have been having marital problems for the past few months," She explains, "I mean, they've had their little spats before, but this time is...different."

I want to ask how it's different, but I also don't want to ask a stupid question. So, I say nothing.

"I've always stayed out of their arguments before, but this time, I've got Sherry asking me what to do, I've got Tina calling to ask if she can still call me if they get divorced, and my son..." She sighs, at a loss, "My son's not saying anything and I'm at wit's end with all of it."

I bite my lip. "How do you know he's been seeing me?"

"Dwight's been sending Sherry flowers at work, or coming home with them randomly," Caroline tells me, "At first, I thought maybe it was because he felt guilty about taking on all the long hauls since he started his new job back in August, or...because they've been bickering." She shakes her head. "I wasn't really paying much attention, but when you were in the hospital, Dwight said we should get the yellow tulips and then you reminded me that they were your favorite...he's been getting Sherry yellow tulips."

"Oh."

She nods, "He always says he's got a bad memory and I'll admit he's definitely forgetful, but he remembered your favorite flower," She shrugs her shoulders, "If you asked him what Sherry's middle name was, he would have to ask for some time to think about it."

I feel ashamed by her words, even though I'm sure she's not trying to strap a scarlet letter on me.

"I thought it was a little strange, but I didn't want to think that my son would do something like that, until..." Her eyes meet mine, "Until I saw how you two acted around each other last Saturday."

I blink once and tears appear in my vision.

"And then you disappeared for awhile and-"

"We weren't doing anything," I defend with a rasp, "I swear."

"Even so, he was...he seemed brighter when he came back to the party."

I close my parted mouth, knowing what she means. He did seem to have a refreshed youthfulness behind his face after we left my bedroom. Dwight's a subtle person externally, but if you know him well enough, you learn to read the emotions he doesn't outwardly convey.

"I'm sorry, Caroline," I finally muster up to say, "I...I never meant for it to happen. Neither did D."

"How long has it been going on?"

"Uh," I think back to before the new year, "October...maybe a little earlier than that, I don't know."

Caroline inhales, "Okay."

"I know it's my fault," I croak, "That their marriage isn't doing good. Dwight told me it started in November."

She looks me over, considering. "Well, that certainly would explain why Dwight was going out of his way to do all those nice things for her, trying to make her happy."

I put my hand around the mouth of my cup. "I think Dwight's just that kind of person."

Caroline nods her head. "Yeah, he is, isn't he?" She licks her lips. "You know, Kendall, Dwight's father, wasn't a very good guy. I mean, at the time, I was young and in love and overlooked what parents saw from the get go. But, I always thought I lucked out with Dwight, because he was considerate, and kind, and...a good person."

"He's still a good person."

"I know," She says, smiling at me, "And I know you're a good person, too, Pippa."

I feel a tear slide down my face. "I don't feel like a good person."

"Well, you are," She reaches over and touches my hand, "And I know you don't want Sherry to get hurt."

"No," I shake my head, "I don't."

"You and Dwight aren't bad people, Pippa," She adds, "Good people aren't good because they never make bad decisions; they're good because they learn from them."

I sniff, wiping a tear from my face. "You want me to stop seeing him?"

"Like I said before, you're adults. I can't make you do anything," She tells me, "However, I don't approve of what's going on and I can assure you that Dwight's getting talked to next and told how I feel."

I nod, feeling wet lashes touch my face as I blink. "I just...I pushed men away for years, because I couldn't feel the way I felt when I was with Dwight with them and I held onto to this belief that what happened took all of me." I flinch my face a little as emotion rolls up. "And then I came back and he was here and..." I put my hand on my chest. "I felt like myself again, I felt like he just breathed life into me."

Caroline's thumb soothes my knuckles.

"But now, I just feel worse off whenever he comes around," I continue, "I love your son, Caroline, but after he leaves to go home, I just want to drink to numb the pain."

"That's because you aren't supposed to be together, Pippa," She plainly replies, "He has to go home with guilt on his shoulders and you have to watch him drive away with heartbreak."

I clear my throat. "I didn't mean to ruin their marriage."

"Honey, you, or rather yours and Dwight's affair is not the only reason their having problems," She takes my hand in hers, "But, if they're ever gonna work on their marriage, it does have to end."

I look her in the eye. "So, you do want me to break things off with him?"

"I want you to do what you think is right," Caroline tells me in her maternal voice, "And most importantly, I want you to heal."

"What?"

She warmly smiles. "I want you to heal from the wound from all those years ago and I want you to grow and find happiness, because you deserve it, honey."

I chuckle a little, despairing. "What if the person who makes me happy is also married?"

"Then you need to be the person who makes you happy," She answers, "Take it from me, Pip. You know I dated a few men throughout the years, hoping to find 'the one'."

Yeah," I move tears away again.

"After a while, I learned that the only person who can ever be in charge of making me feel spectacular, like I was worthy, is me."

I smile at her.

"You are a spectacular woman, Pippa," She sits back in her chair, "Look at everything you've done; from what I have seen, you have not let your depression, or your alcoholism prevent you from achieving your goals and being a caring mother to your little boy."

"Yeah, it only cost me my liver."

She chuckles, sounding as if she might cry. "You're still spectacular. And you are worthy."

Caroline picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip of cooled down coffee. I look at her, utterly amazed that she could think that about me, after knowing what I've done. It makes me envious that I don't have her as a mother in law and also saddened to know that if Dwight does leave Sherry for me, Caroline may not be part of the package deal and I suppose I can respect that.

"I have to go," I say with hoarse voice, "I told Jolyon I wouldn't be more than an hour."

"That's okay," She starts to stand, "I want to get home myself and take a nice relaxing bath before art class."

I smile, "Bye, Caroline."

Caroline moves to give me a hug. She presses us together ardently. "I love you, Pippa Barnes."

I fight off tears as her perfume hits my nose. "I love you, too."

 **...**

I pull up to the front of the Negan-Addams house about thirty minutes after I left the cafe. I think silently cried a river the whole way here with the windows down. Being blindsided by Caroline really opened up the pores and cleared the sinuses. It feels so surreal, even though it literally just happened. I've always feared that she would find out, but I never expected her to just straight up call me on it. Although, I don't know why; Caroline is a sweet woman, but she was always the sort of mom who would curtly ask Dwight about the trouble we got into, no nonsense.

I turn off my car and sit for a second to breathe. I need a cigarette, but I did verbally vow in the kitchen, in front of Jolyon, on Sunday that I would quit smoking. I haven't had one since, which is sort of driving me batty, but I've been popping nicotine gum all week.

Once I've prepared myself for another blitz attack, I get out of my car and walk up to their front door. I stand there, hesitating to knock, before I ring the doorbell instead. It's quiet inside and it bugs the ever-living shit out of me. What if Jolyon let the cat out of the bag and they've all been sitting there in grave silence, waiting for me? I think my heart's leapt up into my ears.

A few seconds later, the door opens. "Hello!"

"Hi," I greet Lucille, "I've, uh, seemed to have lost my puppy and I was wondering if you might have seen him?"

She chuckles genuinely at my awkward attempt to be less nervous. "Yeah, we found one a little while ago, but I'm afraid my husband's already grown attached to him." She nods me in. "They're in the T.V. room."

I cross the threshold of the outside into their home, glad that I didn't spontaneously combust.

"This way." She walks to the right, through an arch.

My eyes wander as my feet follow. So far, the house looks in a way that I could definitely picture their house looking like. It's like this combination of homey, cozy vibe, but also well decorated. Colonial? I don't fucking know, I didn't go to interior design school, but I can bet my best ass cheek that Negan didn't have anything to do with this.

I hear what sounds like a roar of some type that must be coming from the television, followed by Negan's laugh. I'm suddenly brought into a quaint little living room, where my flesh and blood and co-adulterer sit on a couch together, staring at the T.V. mounted on the wall across from them.

"Hey."

They both look my way, but Jolyon springs up in his seat. "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, Jolyon," I look over at the T.V., "Whatcha watchin'?"

"Jursasstic Park."

I smile, "Jurassic, Jol."

"Yeah," Jolyon says, pointing, "A man got eaten on a toilet."

"Okay, so does this mean I'll be making up the guest side of my bed for you tonight?"

"Yes!" Jolyon answers, which makes Lucille and I chuckle. "But not because I'm scared. Negan said they're fake dinosaur, because all the dinosaurs are dead."

"Well, thank you, Negan." I look over at him, but mildly because of Lucille next to me.

"He was the one who picked it out, I as just being a courteous fuckin' host."

"I told him it wasn't a good choice," Lucille tells me, "But Jolyon said you wouldn't mind and he wanted to watch it, so..."

"Oh, it's fine, really," I smile lightly, "I'm just giving Negan a hard time."

"You mean, you're just being an asshole."

"Negan." Lucille warns.

I snicker faintly, putting my hand out. "Alight, punk, we better get going."

"Can't we watch the rest of the movie?"

"I'll borrow it from Pop," I motion him over, "Come on, get your stuff, so we can go home and have dinner."

"Oh, I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I got home," Lucille informs me, "But he only ate half."

"And grapes!" Jolyon adds.

"I cut them in half," She assures me, "I hope that's okay. I didn't ruin his dinner, did I?"

"No, no, it's okay," I close my hand around Jol's when he offers, "Thank you."

"Of course," Lucille smiles, "So, how was your dentist appointment?"

"My...?" I puzzle my brows, briefly glancing at Negan, "Oh, sorry, yeah. It was fine; I don't have to go back for another year."

"Good," She says, looking over her shoulder at the sudden ringing, "Sorry, I'll be right back."

Lucille walks out of the room and shortly after, we hear a "hello?"

"Dentist appointment, huh?"

"I thought it'd sound better if I was watching Jol because you had something better to do than fucking coffee with a friend."

I look back him. "Smooth."

Negan gathers his brows. "You okay?"

"Fine," I rasp with my slightly puffy eyes, "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks," He says dismissively, "How'd the date go?"

I twist my mouth to the side, nodding. "It was okay."

"Pip-" Negan starts to say my name, but refrains when Lucille comes back into the room.

"That was Julie," She sighs to Negan, "I forgot to tell her I wasn't going."

"I thought you said you were?"

"Yeah, but I changed my mind an hour or so go."

"Your head's hurting again?"

"No, I'm just exhausted," Lucille replies, slumping her shoulders, "I'd rather just go to bed early." She looks at me. "My friend's been trying to get me to go to this wine and art class in Camden, but I dog her every time."

I arch my brow. "Wine and Watercolor?"

"Yes, that's one!" She says, "Have you ever gone?"

"Once," I answer, shortly remembering that night, "With my mom."

"How'd you like it?"

"Um, I don't actually remember if I liked it or not."

Lucille laughs, "Oh, so there's no cut off."

"No, I pretty much figured I had enough when I thought my art started to look good."

She laughs louder. "That'd probably would be my second glass. I'm a bit of a lightweight."

"Can't relate." I chuckle into a smile, before looking down at Jolyon. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, well, thanks for watching him," I tell the both of them, "I'm sorry if it was short notice, or an inconvenience."

"Oh, no, it wasn't a problem," Lucille claims, "It was fun. If I could, I'd trade my kid for yours." She hikes her thumb back towards Negan.

I snicker, "I'm not sure that'd be a fair trade."

She laughs again. "No, you're better off sticking with the four year old."

I laugh a little. "Alright, thanks again."

"I'll walk you out," Negan gets up with a groan, "Make sure you make it to your car okay."

"Uh, no, it's okay," I insist, "We can handle ourselves just fine."

"Well, I forgot to get the mail, so I gotta walk out anyway."

Lucille follows us to the door. "Bye, Pippa, bye, Jol!"

"Bye!" Jolyon waves back at her.

She smiles brightly as she waves back. "See ya later!"

"Bye!" I smile back.

She closes the door about halfway to the car.

Negan glances over his shoulder, before saying anything. "I don't know who enjoyed having the kid here more, me, or her."

"Oh, well, I'm glad." I blandly say as I open the car door for Jolyon.

"Hey," Negan puts his arm on the top of the door, "What the fuck's with you?"

"Nothing," I exhale, "I said I was fine."

"You're sure as fuck not acting like it."

I huff bleakly, "How am I acting?"

Negan looks over at his neighbor across the street for a moment. "You look like you've been crying."

"Yeah, well, they were out of novocaine for my root canal."

"You didn't get a root canal, dumbass."

"Whatever," I shut the door, looking up at him "Thank you for watching him for me. I really appreciate it."

Negan's eyes scan my face. "What happened?"

I shrug, "We had coffee and talked, like I said."

He nods, sticking his tongue in his cheek. "Huh. Well, what'd you talk about?"

I shake my head. "Nothing."

"Come on, Pip," He rolls his eyes, "Cut the shit."

I bite my lip, glancing down. "I tell you later."

"Now."

"No, not now, okay?" I mildly argue. "Later."

"Why later?"

"Because, Negan, I can't right now, alright?" I sigh, looking at my keys. "Just drop it...please."

He looks me over. "Alright, fine."

I sniff. "I'll see you tomorrow at work."

"Yeah."

With that stiff goodbye, I go around to my side and get in. Jolyon waves at Negan from his booster set and Negan waves back. In the rearview, I swear his eyes meet mine, but I look ahead. Home feels so far away and I can't get there fast enough.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Sorry if last chapter's suspense was a bit of a teaser, but we all know the real deal's coming.**

 **Jam86: Thank you! I'm glad you like how I portray Negan and other characters! Sadly, I think Lucille's eventual illness will cause a wedge between Pip and Negan. It may also bring the closer in more ways than one, as well ;)**

 **PruRose: Lol, I know; practically everyone hates Dwight in FYIWAF. One of them had to fall short and Pippa and Negan are so much more compatible. Plus, Pip needs a future, not another past.**

 **Kara315: I agree, Dwight is sort of sweet. I've always imagine the character, comic/show, as having more of a gentler side than say Negan, who's so outwardly expressive and unsubtle. Yes, the story will involve the ZA, however, I don't think it will go so far as in to then become a ZA fic. I think it will get about two to three epilogue style chapters.**

 **CLTex: Yeah, Dwight's definitely in for it, poor thing. And I agree, Audrey's a bit too mother henish but she is looking out for Pippa, in her own way.**

 **Guest: I happy you like my fic enough to power read it lol! Negan and Pippa are definitely the fan favorites and I have to agree that a relationship with Dwight seems unlikely to be successful. And yas to the cute Negan and Jolyon relationship; it's my favorite to right, because they both organically offer what the other wants and it's pure innocence and I love it. Lourdes' change in attitude will likely bring some drama, but I can't say for certain that multiple parties will be hurt by it.**

 **ThegoodEve: Haha, Lourdes and Negan are not currently sleeping together, no, but her warnings about Negan may or may not float up in the future. *shrugs***

 **StTudnoBright: No, it wasn't Lucille this time! But you were right; poor Negan ;)**

 **Savioursgirl:Aw, I'm glad this Negan can make up for the Savior's Negan in SY. He's for sure a total dick to Nan, but then again he is a changed man by then in the Za ( not that that's excuse). So, I will sort of bring them all together in the end, which will be in the ZA. Unfortunately, that will mean that Negan's going to be an asshole. To Pippa, I can't say, but I think can all agree that once he finds out Dwight is "The Dwight" that he's been competing with, he's going to be an asshole to him and Sherry will just be icing on the cake. Sort of Negan being Negan, as well as maybe resentment for all the heartbreak he caused Pippa.**

 **HappyCamper: I think Pippa is an OC you can root for, too! I mean, I'm of course bias because she's my character, but I agree she's pretty awesome. Yeah, sadly "the one" for her is married and so there's all this uncertainty of how they'd actually coexist as a real deal couple. I love daddy Negan ( in the parental sense lol) too. I know, Pip and Negan are peas in a pod when it comes to each other's lovers. I think if Negan really wants to know the answer to the size question, which let's be real he does, Pippa will eventually answer it for him :)**


	43. Chapter 43

The air conditioning in my house went out yesterday, so I've opened all the windows in hopes that it'll cool us off. So far, no luck. There's no breeze, so it just feels like I've let more heat in. I tried calling the landlord, but he didn't pick up, so I had to leave a message, which means I won't hear back until god knows when.

"Mom!" Jolyon comes running into the living room. "Mom!"

I turn off the vacuum, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "What?"

"Can I go swimming?"

"Go swimming where?" I look over to find him in his swim trunks and no shirt.

"At the river."

"Oh, I don't know if we can go today, baby, I've got to clean the house."

"The house is already clean."

"Yeah, because I've been cleaning all morning."

"Come on, Mom," Jolyon hangs from my leg, "Please?"

I feel sweat slide down my back. "Okay, just let me finish up real quick."

"Can I take off my swimsuit until we go?"

"No, you cannot take off your trunks."

"But it's sooo hot!" He whines. "Just for a little bit?"

"No, you may not walk around naked!"

Jolyon groans, marching out of the room. "You do it!"

"Oh, I do n-" I'm suddenly hit with a reminder of all the times my escapades have caused me to inadvertently flash my poor son, "Alright, fair enough." I say under my breath.

I straighten up the living room, finishing the vacuuming, and fixing up the couch from Jolyon's tendency to stand, or vegetate on it. I pick up the magazines that Lourdes bought those times she stayed over and take them to the kitchen. The sound of a car pulling up grabs my attention as I toss the magazines in the recycling under the sink.

I furrow my brows from the kitchen window as I spot a car pull into the driveway behind mine. I close the cupboard and walk to the front door. I open up before he has time to shut his car door.

"What are you doing here?" I call out from my porch.

"That's not quite the greeting I was fuckin' hoping for," Negan smiles as he walks up to my house, "But I guess it'd be too much to fucking expect any gracious hospitality from you, right?"

I huff, clearing more sweat from my face. "I guess so, especially when the guy from the fucking police sketch just rolls on up." I look him over. "Let me ask again; what are you doing here?"

"And a good fucking morning to you, too," Negan steps up on the first step with a dimpled smirk, "May I come inside?"

"Only if you're wearing protection," I snicker into a smile, "And if you state your business."

Negan chuckles, stepping onto the porch, which puts him back to towering over me, "Well, now I can't remember, because all I can think about is coming inside."

I put my hand out when he leans over to kiss me. "Coming inside is bi-conditional and from the looks of it, you haven't produced either qualification, so you can't enter."

He laughs, taking my hand from his chest. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."

"Bullshit, you were in the neighborhood," I scoff, "You live almost an hour away and there's nothing here that you don't have in Southcastle."

"It's got-"

"Don't say it's got me!" I playfully roll my eyes.

"Uh, wow, I was gonna say it's got Lorelei's biscuits and gravy, but apparently you think you're somebody important."

I laugh, shoving his shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," He finally answers, "I told Lu I was going out to run some errands and-"

"And she believed you?" I saucily arch my brow.

"Can I get a fucking word in, please?" He asks wryly. "I said I was getting my oil changed and my hair trimmed, and then she asked me if I could run to the store on my way home."

"Oh, so, this is just a quick little visit?" I fold my arms. "You sure you want to come in, or should we just fuck real fast on my front lawn?"

"Well, for starters, you don't have a fucking lawn because you live off the grid in the fuckin' woods," He tells me, "But I'd still be down to fuck on all those deadass pine needles over yonder."

I scoff, humored. "Is that what you came by for? Because you can go fuck yourself and see if you've got better luck there, if it is."

"No, I wanted see if you wanted to hang out, dipshit."

"Hang out?"

"Yes, hang out," Negan shrugs, "You know, you, me, and the kid."

"And how the hell are you gonna explain to your wife where you've been when you've been gone for longer than the amount of time all those 'errands' would generally take to do in a day?"

"Easy, asshole," He says, "I called and told her the auto shop was swamped, so the wait time is 'estimated' to be about two to three hours and I decided to walk a few blocks to the movies after I get my haircut." He moves closer again. "And then after all that, I have to go to the store, like she asked. You know how busy the grocery stores get on the weekends."

"So, you think she won't be pissed if you come home late tonight?"

"I won't be out that late," Negan scoffs, "Just a couple hours."

"I don't know, man," I shrug my shoulders, wiping away my sweat-stache, "I think you're playing it too close to the fire."

"Look, she's not even gonna notice. She was gonna try to go into the office again to catch up on some work, so she'll be home later than I will."

"Is she allowed to work on a Saturday?" I inquire, "I thought all school offices were closed on the weekends."

"What are you gonna rat her out?"

"No, but where do I make a complaint about you?"

"You could go to Avery but I'm fucking the superintendent, so good fucking luck getting anywhere," He chuckles, "All complaints about me go right out the window."

"Yeah, and taped onto the wall in of your office."

"Are you gonna let me in, or not?"

I consider just telling him to go home and not risk it for a moment. I then move towards my front door. "Oh, alright, you can come inside."

"Can I have that in writing?" He follows me.

I roll my eyes as I open the door. "Jolyon!"

"What?" He replies from out of sight, most likely in his room.

"Get out here; we have a guest."

"Okay, just a minute!"

I start to walk into the living room, before I pause after a second's thought. "...Do you have your pants off in there?"

"No!" Jolyon calls back in a way that totally means he does.

I groan. "What did I say about keeping your pants on?"

He comes padding out of his room. "I was wearing underwear, Mom."

I roll my eyes again. "Look who stopped by."

Jolyon beams as soon as he turns his head. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Jesus, isn't anyone just glad that I'm here?"

"I'm glad you're here." Jolyon says.

"That makes one of us," I smirk at Negan, "We were just about to go to the river."

"In this fuckin' heat?" He huffs.

"Well, I'm sorry that we can't just stay here and swim in the pool we don't have," I stroll into the kitchen, "Unlike some people."

"And _I'm_ sorry that I have a nicer house than you."

"Yeah, we all can't have wives that bring home the bacon."

"Hey, I bring shit home, too."

"Oh, what?" I tease, opening the fridge, "Smiles and lies?"

"And the groceries." He tugs on his shirt. "Fuck, it's hotter in here than it is outside."

"Yeah, my AC broke."

"Call the landlord."

"I did," I hand him some water from the pitcher in my fridge, "And he didn't pick up, so I had to leave a message."

Negan drinks from the glass, making a face as he swallows and then inspecting the glass. "What the fuck is this?"

"It's water infused with basil and strawberries," I pour a glass for myself, "It's refreshing."

"Whatever you fucking say."

"Well, then don't drink it," I set my water down, "Alright, baby, let's get ready to go."

"Can we bring food?"

"We'll swing by the deli on the way to the river."

"Okay," Jolyon follows me, "Man, I have to take off my underwear to put on my swim trunks again!"

"Well, why did you take off your trunks to begin with, if you knew we were gonna go?"

"Because you were taking forever and I was trying to stay cool while reading on my bed."

I can't help but laugh. "Go get ready."

Negan goes with me to my bedroom. "Jesus, it's like a fucking sauna in here."

"Hence why we're going to the river," I dig through my drawers for a bathing suit, "I guess you'll be watching from afar again like last time."

"Not unless you've got men's swim shorts lying around."

"Hang on, I'll see if one of my many suitors left a pair here."

"Fucking smart ass." He replies as he sits on my bed.

"We could run to the store and get you a pair."

"Seems like a pain in the ass."

I strip down out of my shorts and t-shirt. "Well, then you can hold down the picnic blanket."

Negan whistles. "I'd like to hold you down."

I smirk, pulling up my high-waisted bikini bottoms. "Maybe later, if you're good."

"I don't know if I can be good when you're wearing that."

"Then I guess you drove down here for nothing."

"Nah, not for nothing."

I shift a little to look at him as I fasten the back of my top.

 **...**

We had a blast at the river. We found a spot in the shade, there was a nice breeze, it wasn't too crowded. I didn't really expect there to be, since we went to a good spot I've known about from when Dwight and I use to come here. We had lunch and then Jol and I swam for about an hour or two. Negan reclined on the blanket and skimmed through the literary magazine I just got in the mail yesterday. There was one point, where he was laying there doing nothing. At first, I thought he was asleep, but when Jolyon wanted to stop swimming, so he could look for "shells", I walked up to the blanket and saw that his eyes were open behind his sunglasses. He dissed my magazine and made some asshole comment about poetry, before sitting up on his elbow. I asked him what he was doing and he just simply replied that he was thinking...before making a dirty comment about my bikini.

On the way home, I got a call from my landlord and he said that he'd be out Tuesday, so we made a quick stop at the store to pick up some plug in fans to assist our overhead fans. Jolyon's eyes were struggling to stay open in Negan's car, so I put him down for a nap in his room we when got home with a fan directed towards his bed.

Negan and I go into my room quietly after Jol's all set. I peel off my swimsuit and change into the clothes I left on the floor this morning.

"I think I feel a little sensitivity on my nose," I scrunch my nose as I'm changing, "I hope it's not a sunburn; I put sunscreen on."

"You're fine, you big baby."

I turn around and spot him relaxing on the bed. "You didn't leave the shade at all down by the river, so don't give me any of that shit."

"I didn't have a fucking swimsuit."

"Well, whose fault is that?" I barefoot it over to my side. "I offered to take you to get one."

"Maybe I didn't want to go swimming in your fucking drinking water."

"It's got fluoride in it," I smile at his laughter, "That's not our fucking drinking water, you fucking idiot."

He smiles with his hands behind his head on the pillow. "Well, you never know in bumpkin towns like this."

"Shut your fucking mouth," I chuckle as I crawl onto the bed, "I'll have you know that Camden was featured in a travel magazine as a little slice of heaven."

"For hillbillies?"

"For road trippers and hipsters," I lay on my side, facing him, "What's your town ever accomplished?"

"I wouldn't fuckin' call that an accomplishment, Pip," He smiles at me, amused, "It's not like the whole town got together and worked for it."

"No, but we're still extremely proud," I joke, "When are you are gonna leave?"

"In a little while."

"So...ten minutes? An hour?"

"You got a hot date?"

"No," I softly say, tired, "I'm just worried the whole town's gonna show up with pitchforks to chase your Frankenstein ass out of here for talking shit."

Negan snickers, "Trust me, they don't have fuckin' chase me to get me to leave."

I huff, "You are seriously cruisin' for a mean fuckin' bruisin', if you keep at it. Camden's a great town; sorry we don't have mundane little suburbs like your hometown."

"Southcastle's not my hometown."

"Oh," My eyes travel down, "Is it where your parents live?"

"Yep."

The fan moves effortlessly from left to right, blowing cool air across us. "Do you ever go back?"

"Nope," Negan shakes his head, "Nothing there for me to go back to."

"...So you've completely cut ties with your parents?"

"For the most part, yeah."

I observe his casual demeanor, amazed that he doesn't seem at all sad to say it. "Because they...weren't there for you?"

Negan glances my way. "You mean, because they fuckin' neglected me?"

"I didn't say that."

"No, but you should've, instead of trying spare my fucking feelings," He looks back to the ceiling fan, "That's what it was; they left me alone for hours and drank like fuckin' fish."

I prop my head up in my hand as I listen.

"My mom ignored me and my old man..." Negan looks away from the fan at some unknown point, "My old man was a fuckin' hard ass who use to tell everyone I threw my shoulder out at the batting cages."

My eyebrows gather at that.

"But the fucking truth of it is, is that he'd have a bad day at work and then come home, drink a couple beers, and then tell me to get my ass outside so he could throw the ball way too fucking hard at me and yell loud as fuck at me for flinching, or not catching it. Fuck, it was worse if I cried when the ball hit me."

"He hit you?"

"Not full on slaps or punches, just shoved or yanked me around," Negan tells me, "This one time he dislocated my shoulder when he pulled me back from trying to walk away from him. He thought I'd gotten smart with him."

"Well, what did your mom say?"

"She'd call my dad an asshole, but aside from that she never really did anything," Negan sighs, "She'd tell me to say it was the batting cages, or practice or some bullshit accident, if people asked."

I hold back a rude scoff, but I can't help the face I make. "She just let it happen? She stuck by him?"

His eyes meet mine. "Pippa, my folks fucking hate each other, but they've stuck with each other for all these years, because misery fuckin' loves company."

"Was it always that way?" I ask him. "Hating each other?"

"Probably, I don't fucking know," He answers with an exhale, "They only got married, because my mom got knocked up. For all I know, it was a one time thing turned that into me."

"Oh."

"Yeah," He groans as he stretches in place, "They spent a great deal of their time in different rooms than each other. Pretty sure they screwed around behind each other's backs." He settles, "But I don't give a flying fuck about that shit, I just wanted to have parents."

I reach my hand over, resting it on his arm. "I'm sorry, baby."

He takes my hand in his. "Boy, am I fuckin' glad you didn't say 'that explains a lot'...again."

I snicker into a smile. "I mean, it certainly does explain why you're such an asshole, but whatever."

"Well, you had a good childhood, so what the fuck's your excuse?" He looks over when my only answer is a smile. Negan closes his eyes. "Shit, sorry."

"Don't be," I soothe his finger with my thumb, "It's not your fault you're an asshole."

Negan chuckles with me, turning over until he's got his knee between my legs and he's over on top of me. "You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"You're laughing."

He laughs, kissing me. "Yeah, I am."

I touch his face as our lips meet. I let my other hand run through his hair. "You didn't get your haircut."

"They were closed." He says against my lips.

I smile, "You know, I could cut your hair."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Negan chuckles, "I like having ears."

"I cut Jolyon's hair all the time, you prick."

He looks down at me, trying to determine if I'm serious or not. "How the fuck do you know how to cut hair?"

"I rented an apartment after college with a girl who cut hair."

"And...she taught you how to cut hair?"

"How to help trim the back of her hair when she gave herself at-home haircuts."

"You think that gives you some type of honorary fuckin' cosmetology license?"

"Hey, Jol has never had fucked up looking hair before, so yeah, I think it fucking does," I fiddle with his hair, "Besides, your hair's not all that long, so it'll take like ten minutes."

"Huh, well, as much as I'd like to roll the dice, I think I'm still gonna have to fucking pass."

"Suit yourself," I slip my hand under his shirt, "Are we having sex?"

"You're sharp as a tack, baby." Negan says as he lies against my body, kissing me.

I smirk, putting my hand on his face again. "Did you bring protection?"

"...No, I thought you had 'em here."

"We went through them, you stallion."

Negan laughs, "I think I got one or two in my car."

I groan, turning my head. "No, not glove compartment condoms, Negan."

"What? They're still good."

"Not if they've been sitting in your hot glove compartment. Don't you teach sex ed, shouldn't you know this?"

He rolls his eyes, letting out a disappointed breath. "Well, then, I guess we're not having a little mommy and daddy time after all."

My smile dwindles as I stare up at him.

"Maybe I'll take that haircut after all," Negan pats my leg; "You better have actual fucking shears, 'cause I don't want some garbage ass cut with Jolyon's arts and craft scissors."

I touch his side. "Well, wait, don't get up."

Negan furrows his brows. "What?"

I bite my lip. "I'm on birth control...we can still have sex."

His eyes scan mine. "That doesn't-"

"I know, but if you pull out right before, than we should be okay."

"Yeah, should be," He huffs, "That's the fuckin' kicker."

"We'll be careful," I work my hand up to his shoulder, "Come on, we're adults; I think we can handle it."

Negan looks up towards my bed frame. "...You are on the pill."

"Yeah," I bring my leg up, "So, do you still want to?"

He blinks back down to me and I offer a smile.

 **...**

The door creaks open and a meow heralds Pip leaping up onto the bed. He purrs a little louder than the fan as he saunters up the bed, walking on and over body parts.

He meows closer to my ear, but I don't move a muscle. Sometimes he'll go away if I make like I'm totally asleep.

"Shut the fuck up, dickhead."

My eyes open at the sound of Negan's voice. The cat meows again, almost directly at Negan.

"Get off me."

I turn over to my other side, finding Pip standing on Negan's belly, staring right at him. He purrs as he beds down, tucking his limbs under him. It makes me laugh.

"Tell your fucking cat to scram."

"I would, but I think he's already decided he's staying."

"I hate cats."

"I find that hard to believe, considering you know your way-"

"Around a pussy?" A smile grows on his face. "My goodness, Ms. Barnes, what language."

I chuckle a little, scratching Pip's head. "It's three o'clock, Coach."

Negan opens his eyes, glancing over at my alarm clock. "I guess I oughta get home."

"Don't forget to hit the grocery store."

"Yeah...what do you have in your kitchen, I might just fuckin' cut a few corners."

I scoff, "Don't even think about it...you still owe me chocolate syrup."

Negan chuckles, looking at me. "You didn't have to fucking throw it out, that was your fuckin' choice."

"I couldn't bare the thought of making my kid chocolate milk, knowing what we did with it."

"Well, I'll buy you some next time," He breathes, "Maybe two bottles...you like canned whipped cream?"

"You sick motherfucker!" I laugh out, which gets him going.

He sits up, which finally makes the cat jump down. "Alright, babe, I gotta head out."

I get out of bed as well. "Okay. I should wake up Jolyon; I don't want him to be up all night."

"I'm gonna borrow an aspirin from your bathroom." Negan walks into my bathroom.

"You can just have it," I retort, "I don't want it back."

"Smart ass."

I pad down the hall, working the creaks out of my neck. "Jol, honey," I push open his door, "Time to..." I glance around the room after finding his bed empty. "Jol?"

I peer down the hall when I don't get an answer.

"Jolyon?"

"In here!" He finally calls.

Relieved, I walk into the living room. Jolyon's sitting on his knees at the coffee table, coloring while he watches T.V.

I put my hands on my hips. "Hey, how long have you been up?"

"Only for one episode." Jolyon points with his crayon to the television, where some cartoon plays.

"Oh," I nod. Shit, that must mean he's been up at least thirty minutes before Negan and I. "Did you make yourself a snack?"

"Yes," He tells me beside his cup of milk and frosted animal crackers, "You and Negan were sleeping."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

Jolyon shrugs. "Can we have cornbread for dinner? Like how Gran makes it?"

"Uh...sure, I guess," I itch my nose, "Want me to make some rice and beans with it?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"Chicken nuggets?"

"Yeah and fries."

"Cornbread doesn't really go with chicken nuggets and fries, babe."

"Who says?" Jolyon looks my way.

"Well, no one, but Gran doesn't make it with chicken nuggets."

"I don't like that spicy rice, Mom."

"Jambalaya?" I cock my brow. "I wasn't talking about Jambalaya."

"Well, I want cornbread with chicken nuggets and fries, please."

I roll my eyes, putting my hands up. "Alright, if you want some weirdo meal, I'll make you a weirdo meal."

"Make it like muffins, Mom."

"Make what like muffins?" Negan strolls into the living room.

"Cornbread."

"You know how to make cornbread? And I could be wrong, but I think I heard something about jambalaya."

"Uh, yeah," I chuckle, "Why does that come as a surprise?"

"Because I don't think I've ever fucking seen you cook," He retorts, putting his arm around me, "We're always going out, or else I make something."

"Well, you do look cuter in my apron and are a surprisingly good cook," I pat his tummy, "But fuck you, for assuming I can't cook."

"I just figured you were too fuckin' drunk to be around a stove."

"Asshole." I laugh.

"Mom's good at cooking." Jolyon chimes in as he chews a cookie.

"Thank you, Jolyon."

"Welcome."

"You're just being nice, because she gave birth to you," Negan scoffs at Jolyon, "And because you don't know what good cookin' tastes like."

"Oh, so you admit that the food you've cooked for us is swill?"

Negan chuckles. "Fuck you."

"Are you gonna spend the night?" Jolyon asks Negan.

"No, baby," I tell him with a smile, "Negan's gotta go home."

"Oh," Jolyon looks down at his coloring book, "Because Lucille wants him to come home?"

"Yeah, he's gotta go home to Lucille."

"Okay."

I look up at Negan. "Alright, I guess you..." I notice the expression on his face, "What's wrong?"

Negan moves away and heads for the front door.

"Negan?" I follow after him. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Why'd you have to fucking do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fucking make me out to be the bad guy."

"What are you talking about?" I touch his arm. "Will you fucking look at me?"

He turns with a scowl on his face. "I can't fuckin' stay, because I gotta fuckin' go home to my wife?"

I stare at him, perplexed. "...Well, you do."

"Well, it makes me look like a fucking asshole."

"I...I wasn't trying to make you look an asshole."

"Yeah, well, now I fucking feel like an asshole for having to leave." He grabs his keys off the hook. "Tell the kid I'll see him later."

"Negan, wait." I put my hand out on the door to stop him.

"Come on, Pippa, move."

"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" I look at him with soft, beseeching eyes. "I didn't mean it like that."

Negan's eyes traipse over me, still a little pissed.

I keep my gazed fixed. "Don't be mad."

Jolyon walks into the hall. "Mom, I spilled my milk."

I turn my head, sighing. "Alright, I'll clean it up."

I go to the kitchen to fetch a washrag and some paper towels. Jolyon sits on the couch, looking at the milk all over the coffee table.

"It got on my coloring book."

"We'll have to get you a new one." I say, cleaning up the spill.

"Did Negan go home?"

"I think so." I reply, although I didn't hear the door open and close.

"Aw, I like it when he stays here," Jolyon lies on his stomach, holding his head in his hands, "He's cool."

"Yeah, but you know, Lucille would miss him, if he didn't come home," I place the paper towels on the spill to soak it up, "We wouldn't want her to be sad, would we?"

"Mm, no," He kicks his legs lazily, "She's cool, too."

"What about me, huh?" I lean over to him. "Am I cool?

"Hmm...Yeah, you're pretty cool."

I smile, pecking his lips. "You're a sweetheart."

"No, Mom, you have to say I'm cool, too."

"Oh, sorry," I finish up cleaning the table, "You're cool, Jolyon. In fact, you're the coolest."

"Thanks."

I get up and go back to the kitchen. From the archway to the front, I see Negan hasn't left. I throw away the milk soaked paper towels and put the rag in the sink, before padding over.

Negan's eyes are fixed on the wall, so I curiously follow his gaze, standing in between the arch. It's the framed picture that Jolyon and my parents got me for my birthday.

It's a photo of me that Audrey took when I had Jolyon. She and my parents had flown down to Austin when I told them I was going to labor. That was at one o'clock in the afternoon, Jolyon was born twelve hours later. Audrey snapped this photo of me holding a bundled Jolyon in my hospital bed, in my gown, right after the doctor got him all cleaned up. My parents had it set in black and white and framed when they found it in their photo albums.

"My birthday gift." I say, after taking a moment to look at it.

Negan nods his head, continuing to glance at the photograph. "You look beautiful."

"My hair's a mess, I look exhausted, and I'm all sweaty," I make light, "But then again I did just have a baby."

Negan scoffs, humored. "Yeah, not bad for pushing a seven pound brat out of your love tunnel."

I snicker, "If you ever call my vagina a love tunnel again, your mass will never sail through again...and Jolyon was nine pounds."

"Jesus, nine fucking pounds?" Negan looks at me momentarily in astonishment. "How the fuck did you pull that off?"

"Believe it, or not, the love tunnel expands."

He smiles, laughing. "I fuckin' love you."

I smile back. "Get outta here. Go home to your wife and leave me alone here to raise my kid without air conditioning."

"You're real fucking funny," Negan glances at his keys in his hand, "But I guess I should get going."

"Yeah," My smile humbles, "Sorry about what I said before."

"Ah, don't sweat it," Negan sighs, "You only made me look bad in front of the boy is all."

"I'm sure you can make it up to him."

"Make it up to him?" Negan looks me over, incredulous. "You're the one who fuckin' needs to make it up to _me_."

I huff, "Monday, I'll bring you lunch."

He grins. "I was planning on eating out."

"Oh, well, I was talking about making you a lunch, but I guess we could order a pizza."

"That wasn't the kind of slice I was talking about."

"Gross."

Negan chuckles, "Alright, I'll see ya."

"Bye." I let him kiss my lips.

"Bye, kid!"

"Bye!" Jolyon calls out from the living room.

Negan kisses me again. "Tell me you love me."

"I don't tell lies."

He snickers above my lips. "I fuckin' said it, you bitch, so now it's your turn."

"I don't remember hearing that," I smile, "Maybe you oughta refresh my memory."

Negan's smile grows as he plants one on my mouth. "I love you."

"Thanks."

He laughs out, snaking his arm around to my lower back and holding me to him. "Fuckin' say it, asshole."

"Alright, alright, I love you."

"There, was that so hard?"

"More than you know."

 **...**

"We should get a bigger pool," Jolyon says as he walks along the basket, "In case you want to swim."

"I can't afford anything bigger than this." I laugh, pushing the cart with the little kiddie pool riding lopsided inside.

"You can swim in it, if you want to."

"Oh, thanks for telling me I can swim in the pool that I bought with my own money."

"You'll probably just have to sit, though." Jolyon replies, not really paying attention to my sarcasm. "Hey, maybe we can swim in Negan's pool. It's pretty big."

"Maybe." I sigh, going down the cereal aisle. Fat fucking chance.

"Will I have to wear swim trunks?"

"In your pool?" I arch my brow. "Uh, yes."

"But I'm the only one swimming in it."

"Yeah, but it's going outside."

"In our backyard."

"Look, I don't know what this nudist phase is all about, but you are not skinny dipping in the pool and you will wear pants in the house, got it?"

"Even-"

"Even when you're relaxing in your bedroom, yes."

"Man!" Jolyon complains.

I drop a box of Fruit Loops in the cart. "Let's go."

In the checkout, Jolyon asks me for a million things, all of which I turn him down on. Luckily, Jolyon isn't one to throw a tantrum over not getting a pack of M&M's like Audrey's youngest had been known to do when she was his age. I have a feeling I'm in for having a little smart ass though with all the eye rolls and oddly wry things he says in response to my no's. Not sure if that's mine, or Negan's handy work.

"Can I get this?"

"Do you know what it is?"

"It's candy."

"Yeah, but do you know what's in it?"

"...No."

"Peanut butter and chocolate...together."

Jolyon makes a face and puts it back on the shelf. "Yuck," He grabs another, "How about this?"

"Jolyon, you are not getting any candy," I groan, "The neighbors brought us some molasses cookies this morning, remember?"

"I don't like those."

"Then why did you eat four already?"

"So you wouldn't eat them all."

"Are you implying that I eat too much?"

"Well, you do eat a lot, Mom."

"Hey!" I chuckle, putting things on the belt, "I'm your mother, be nice to me. Besides, I don't remember the last time you missed a meal."

"I like to eat," Jolyon smiles, "I'm a growing boy."

"And I'm a growing mom, so shut up."

He giggles. "Lourdes eats more than anyone I ever saw."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah...is she still mad at you?"

"Afraid so."

"You didn't say sorry yet?"

"...Not yet."

"How come?"

"Uh, because we're still trying to figure out whose wrong."

"Well, she needs to say sorry for spilling her plate and for not cleaning it up," Jolyon claims, "That lady thought I did it."

I roll my eyes. "She did not."

"Did, too."

"Did not."

Jolyon laughs. "Did, too, Mom."

"Did..." I pause our back and forth when I notice Sherry walking into the grocery store, down by the other entrance.

She adjusts her purse strap, before grabbing a cart from the corral. Something seems different about her. Externally, she's got her hair back in a two second bun and her slightly washed-out complexion makes it clear she's not wearing makeup. I think her eyes might be puffy, too. Her body language even seems off; the way she moved her purse strap gave me a notion of insecurity, or lack of confidence, but with a drained effort nonetheless.

"And your total today is gonna be forty-two dollars and sixty-seven cents."

I snap out of it when I heard the cashier's voice. "Oh, okay."

"Hey, Mom, isn't that-"

"Yep, it is."

"Let's go say hi." Jolyon suggests.

"Um, actually, we are gonna go."

"But it'll just take a minute."

"Yeah, but she's really busy, so we're not gonna bother her."

"How do you know that she's busy?"

"Because," I frankly answer, taking my receipt, "Let's go."

When we get out into the parking lot, I do look out for Dwight's truck, thinking maybe he's waiting in the car for her, even in this heat. But I don't think I see it and I can't remember what her car looks like. It's the one that's been pulling into my driveway late at night for the past few months. For a moment, I think I spot him when I see an arm hanging out a window with a cigarette between two fingers. But I think I would recognize the arm that's held me in bed if I saw it and upon second glance, I know it's not his arm. I'm internally thankful for that.

 **...**

I keep staring down at my phone, contemplating calling Dwight. I know I have to talk to him, but it's so hard to push the call button. After I talked with Caroline, I decided I needed to officially break things off with him. Maybe she's right; maybe his and Sherry's marriage is salvageable and I would never forgive myself if I stood in the way of that.

Just press the call button, stupid. I thumb loops in the air around the green button. What the fuck am I waiting for? It has to be done, like a band-aid. It's for the best. I take a deep breath, pushing call and putting the phone up to my ear. It's ringing...ringing...still ringing. Fuck, it went to voicemail. He's a goddamn truck driver for Christ's sake, where the hell is he that he's away from his phone?

At the tone, I decide to leave a message, even though I really want to talk to him. "Hey, D, it's me," I bite my lip, "Uh, I was wondering if you and I could meet somewhere later? I really want to talk to you about...about us. So, if you could call me back as soon as possible, that'd be great. Bye."

My classroom door opens.

"Knock, knock," Negan breezes on it, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Uh, nothing," I quickly hang up and toss my phone on my desk, "What's up?"

"What's up?" Negan scoffs, "You said you'd buy me lunch."

"No, I said I'd bring you lunch."

"You said something about pizza," Negan's eyes wonder in thought and then his face drops, before he blinks back to me, "I swear to god, Pippa, if you brought me one of those kid dinner pizzas, I'm gonna fuckin'-"

"I brought you a sandwich, asshole," I get into my bottom desk drawer, "Swirled-rye, triple -layered turkey with bacon, cheese, and pickles." I plop the seran wrapped sandwich on my desk. "With mustard and mayo."

Negan glances down at the sandwich and then looks at me again. "Who the fuck eats swirled-rye?"

I fish out my sandwich, unwrapping it. "You ate it before."

"Did fucking not."

"Yes, remember the first time we went to the river and I made sandwiches?"

"Tch, that was fuckin' dill rye and it was fuckin' gross."

"Well, then starve, motherfucker," I sink my teeth into my sandwich, "I'll leave it in the break room without a note and Lourdes will take it."

Negan chuckles, grabbing the sandwich off the desk. "You and her still not speaking?"

I look at him, mid bite, as he leans against my desk. "How did you know about that?"

"She told me last week in the break room."

Fucking Lourdes. "...Did she say why?"

"No, but when I suggested that she might want to ease up on the donuts, give maybe you or someone a chance to get one, and she made one of her snotty ass sounds and said she couldn't care less if you got a fucking donut, or not." Negan takes a bite of his sandwich. "Then she said you weren't speaking."

I nod my head. "Oh, okay."

Negan raises a brow. "Care to share?"

"No, not really."

"Not even a hint?"

"Nope."

"Whatever," Negan licks his lips, peering down at the sandwich between his hands, "Is this fake bacon?"

"No, it's real."

"Then why the fuck does it look weird as shit?"

"It's real, it's just the kind you can microwave."

Negan winces his face. "Ew, what the fuck's wrong with you, you cheap asshole?"

"I'm broke," I retort, "I couldn't afford to get the good stuff."

"What do you mean you're fuckin' broke? We just got paid on Friday."

"Yeah, well...my landlord hiked my rent."

He furrows his brows at me. "What?"

"Yeah," I scoff, "Apparently, he realized that he had been giving me quite the deal, so he raised it."

"By how much?"

"Three hundred."

Negan nearly choked on his sandwich. "Pardon my fucking French, but did I fucking hear you right?"

"You did."

"How the fuck does he figure you should pay him three hundred more dollars, when every fuckin' time you turn around, something's breaking down?"

I shrug, "I don't know, but he's within his rights. Trust me, I looked it up."

"Son of a bitch," He curses, "You gonna be able to afford that place?"

"I guess, but Jol and I's days of eating non-microwavable bacon are over."

"You can't eat shit like that," Negan huffs, as he takes another bite, "It'll give you cancer."

"Well, unless I find someplace else, I don't have a choice," I crunch into my deli-sliced pickle, "Right now, I just need to figure out how I'm gonna feed my kid until next pay day."

"You got food in your house."

"Yes, but I can't feed Jolyon cereal, or canned raviolis for every meal."

"When did you go to the store last?"

"Sunday, before I found out about the rent hike and I had to write a check for three hundred more. I got the bacon after, when I realized I forgot toilet paper."

"So, what? You're cupboards are barren?"

"Of everything, except junk food," I look over his face, "It's fine, though. We can eat at my parents house and I'm sure I can borrow a little money from them."

"How much?"

"I don't know...a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty. I hate borrowing money, so I won't ask for anymore than that."

Negan nods, setting down his sandwich and standing up. He reaches into his back pocket and I curiously watch as he opens his wallet. "Here."

My eyes move to the twenty, two tens, and two five-dollar bills in his extended hand. "What for?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He scoffs, "Take it, it's fifty bucks."

I shake my head, looking back up at him. "No."

"Jesus, Pippa, don't be so goddamn prideful," He scolds, "If you can borrow the money from your folks, this'll give you two hundred for food. It's all I can give you; if I took out another fifty from the ATM, Lucille would ask why."

"And you wouldn't want to tell her that you were taking care of your mistress and her illegitimate brat from another man?"

"Don't fuckin' sass me, just take it."

"Well, that is technically what you're doing," I chuckle, before accepting the money with a sigh, "But I appreciate it. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Negan goes back to eating, "You can make payments of the fleshy kind."

"You want me to fucking shove this money up your fucking ass?"

"Maybe, I might like it."

I laugh out loud. "You are such a-"

We both look at each other when an abrupt, raucous commotion seems like it's suddenly broke out in the hallway.

"What the fuck is that?" I ask, unsure of what the clamor is exactly.

Negan gets up again, heading for the door. "That would be a fucking fight in the hallway."

I move up from my chair, going with him to help break up whatever's going on. The sound of students hollering like zoo animals becomes even louder once the door opens. We see a group gathered around the must be fighters that aren't in plain sight.

I follow Negan's lead, a little nervous. Back in Austin, I never really experienced school fights at the place I worked at. I was always elsewhere and so I never actually had to break one up before.

Negan doesn't rush over, like I thought might be procedure, he just walks with a slight get up in his go, but once he's close enough, he goes into a stroll. Out of nowhere, he whistles this eerie ass whistle. The same one I've heard him use before on the football team that one time. It's evidently his song, because the kids all gathered immediately look in our direction and start to casually, if not entirely scatter away. I even hear a few students let out "oh, shit" under their breaths.

The two girls, that we can now see are the entertainment for those little circus goers are still fighting. I knit my brows when I make out the lilac colored shorts that I saw Ravinder wearing just fifteen minutes ago in my fourth period class.

"Alright, fucking break it up!" Negan calls out, stepping in once he's passed some students. He takes hold of one Rav's arm and pulls her back, while using his other hand to make distance between her and the other girl. "C'mon, knock it the fuck off."

I take Ravinder's other arm and gently bring her closer to me, behind Negan, which proves difficult, considering she's still swinging. "Rav, stop it! Stop!"

I finally get her to unlock with the other girl, whose thick, black hair she had a fistful of.

"Let go, you fucking bitch!" The other girl yells, which immediately gets me to recognize her. It's Nanda.

Negan backs her up. "Fucking easy! Let off, Patel."

I look over at Ravinder, inspecting her. "Are you okay?"

"She fucking started it!" Nanda shouts for an answer. "She called me a bitch and then slapped me across the face. I didn't do anything!"

"You're a liar!" Ravinder cries, angry. "You said..." She looks over at me and then the ground.

"Said what?" I ask her.

"Nothing." She replies with a bloody lip and ragged hair.

I glance back to Nanda. "What'd you say?"

Nanda closes her mouth. "I didn't say anything."

"So, then how'd this fight start?" I look between them. "Huh? Because I know it didn't start for no reason. Rav?"

"Oh, there you go, fuckin' taking her side, because she's a little teacher's pet!" Nanda scoffs incredulously. "She started it."

"You deserved it!" Ravinder yells back at her. "You're always picking on me and calling me names!"

"That's because you're a-"

"Alright, I've heard all I can fucking stand!" Negan interjects and the girls are quiet. "Somebody better tell me what the fuck happened, or the last few days of the school year are gonna be spent running fuckin' laps in detention, until you puke from the heat."

He looks over at Nanda and raises his brows in question.

Her eyes flicker to Ravinder and then back to him. "She called me a bitch and then slapped me."

"Because you said that Ms. Barnes and-" She cuts herself off again, lowering her eyes from all of ours.

I glance at her and then Nanda. "That I and...what?" The moment I ask, I know and my eyes nearly widen.

Nanda stares at me, but doesn't respond.

"What's going on here?"

We all turn and find Avery standing in the hall.

"Nothing, just two sisters duking it out." Negan responds.

Avery looks at both girls. "In my office, _now_." He waves them over. "Let's go."

Both girls walk towards him. When they're close to each other, Nanda elbows her sister and she shoves back.

"That's enough!" Avery shouts.

Nanda looks over her shoulder. "Sorry, if we ruined your hot and heavy lunch date, I thought you were in the back office."

"Patel!" The principal says more sternly.

Both of them move past Avery, down the hall towards the main office. Avery looks over at the two of us, before heading that way with them. Fuck me.

Negan turns his head. "Go fucking eat lunch."

All the remaining students split, but I hardly notice. All I can think about it what Nanda just said. Did she really just say what I think she said? In front of Avery?

"We're dead meat." I say, when Negan's by my side.

"Nah."

I continue to stare down the hall. "How can you say when she just called us out in front of the principal?"

"Her word against ours, remember?" Negan starts to head back my classroom. "Come on, I want to finish eating."

Lunch ends twenty-five minutes later and while Negan's cool as a cucumber, I spend the rest of the day losing my train of thought, or getting tongue-tied. Around sixth period, I get a notification on my computer screen, telling me I have a message. I open it while my students are going their assignment and my eyes horrify.

The email, from Avery that's also got Negan's school email attached to it reads; _"In regards to the fight that occurred at lunch period today, I'd like to meet with you in my office ten minutes after last bell. Thanks."_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading? Who saw the trailer for season 9?**

 **I've got a lot of reviews for this chapter, so I'm gonna try to keep it under three sentences each, haha. I'm too wordy.**

 **WritersBlock2018: You know, that's a good question. I don't really know what exact chapter is gonna get us to the ZA. But, I do know that it is getting fairly close, because, as I'm sure you and others may have guessed, Lucille's cancer is coming real soon.**

 **CLTex: Don't worry, Lourdes and Pip will make up soon enough. Lourdes doesn't have any other friends, other than Pippa. Yes, I loved Caroline's approach as well.**

 **Jam86: Aw, sorry to say that I have to stick to the biweekly schedule, so that I can keep things fair between FYIWAF and SY. I really wish I had time to write for both every week. As for Negan's little "family time" slip up, I think he's being part-sarcastic, part-unaware of what he says and how it affects Pippa.**

 **Savioursgirl: The only way I could picture Negan being an asshole to Pippa in the ZA is either to keep up with appearances, so as not to look like he was made vulnerable by her being alive, OR she's does something to challenge his power, like Rick. That'll be so strange to have them (Dwight, Sherry, Negan, even Eugene) all realize that they all had Pippa in common. It'll be wild lol!**

 **Guest: I think the similarities that Negan points out that Pippa and Lucille have in common are not necessarily important, other than that it shows that both women have little qualities alike that Negan's fallen for twice. And yes, I think the way he's started to consider how he has sex with her is significant, because it mean he's no longer thinking of her like just another woman to sleep with. I'm glad that you love this fic, thank you!**

 **Guest 2: That is indeed what Lourdes warned Pippa about; that Negan eventually mistreats the women he screws around with. Time will tell how he is with Pippa, when Lucille gets sick. Lol, I don't want him to ruin family time either, but Negan's Negan.**

 **StTudnoBright: Oh, I know, I wanted Pip to be a fly on the wall when Lucille and Negan were babysitting. Lucille was so cautious and caring, it's a little heartbreaking. I agree, Caroline's words definitely stuck with Pippa because of how she handled it with more understanding and compassion.**

 **Happycamper: LOL, I snorted when I read your review! And yes, I love Negan's softy side, too! I'll try to get a little more cutesy "family" things in before it all comes crashing down.**

 **Mollyismyname: I'm very touched at how much you enjoy FYIWAF :) I really do appreciate when someone compliments my writing, thank you so much!**

 **Izzy: No, Negan's absence was a little teaser before the real deal. Haha, glad you liked Negan's prostate exam instead! Yeah, I think Pippa reads more into the "family" comments than Negan actually mean, but he does behave like he really has this other family, away from home.**


	44. Chapter 44

Avery's got a really beautiful family. The framed picture on his desk says so. I've never been to the redwoods in California, but they look breathtaking.

I try not to bounce my knee in nervous jitter as I wait for him in his office. It's so embarrassing to be asked to the principal's office. When I was kid, the risk never stopped me, but now that I'm an adult it's mortifying. What if I get written up?

The door opens and Avery comes in. "Sorry to keep you waiting," He says, "Diane was having trouble with that damn printer again."

"No worries." I smile, clasping my hands in my lap.

"Looks like Negan's gonna drag his ass." Avery sits down at his chair.

"I'm sure he'll be here in second."

"You never know," He exhales, opening up a file and taking out a piece of paper, "He likes to push people's buttons."

"Don't I know it," I retort, which gets Avery to peer up, "Um, we butt heads a lot during practice."

Avery nods. "Now, you know why he usually coaches alone," He smiles, "Excellent job with the team, by the way."

"Thanks," I tuck some hair behind my ear, "So, what is this about?"

"I just need you to sign the bottom of this, saying that you resolved the fight and that appropriate disciplinary actions was taken." Avery slides the paper from the file over.

"Oh, okay." I take the pen he hands me. I glance over the paper, scanning for anything that mentions what Nanda said. I nod, before signing the bottom. "Okay."

"Thank you," Avery takes back the form, "That will be it, Ms. Barnes."

"Okay," I rise from my chair, "I'll...see you tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

I head for the door, cooling down.

"Oh, uh, that thing that Nanda said in the hall?"

Fuck. I shift halfway. "Hm?"

"The comment she made about you and Coach Negan," Avery clarifies, "Do you have any clue as to why she would've said that?"

I blink, as if completely lost. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch what she said."

"She made a suggestive comment about you and Negan," He informs me, "And then later, in my office, when I asked her about it, she said she saw you two kissing on the D.C. trip."

I let out a laugh. "What? That's ridiculous."

"So, it isn't true?"

"Not in the slightest bit," I shake my head, "Married men aren't my type." What a fucking liar!

Avery nods his head. "Alright, have a nice evening."

"You do the same." I exit the office and no sooner do I pass Diane's desk, than do I see Negan come strolling on in.

 **...**

I bite my thumbnail, peering out at my side mirror. It's been about thirty minutes since I left work and parked down the road in wait. I'm horrible at waiting; at least when I don't have a cigarette or a splash of gin to keep me company. What the fuck is taking so long?

"Mommy?"

I'm going out of my tits over here. I check the clock on my radio.

"Mommy?"

I blink up to the rearview mirror. "Yeah, babe?"

"When can we go?" Jolyon asks from the back, looking up from his book in his booster seat.

"Uh, soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon." I stare back out at the mirror.

"I'm hungry."

"Okay, we'll eat dinner soon."

"Do you have a snack?"

"No, Jol, I don't," I answer, "Just be patient."

"But we've been sitting here forever!" He complains. "Why are we even doing this?"

"We're waiting for Negan."

"We are?"

"Yeah, that changed your tune real quick, didn't it?" My eyes switch mirrors when I hear a car coming down the road. Ah, about fucking time!

He parks right behind me, a little too close, but that's on purpose. My anxiety peaks as he takes his time getting out of his car. When he steps on the sidewalk, I can't help but roll my eyes. Hurry it the fuck up. However, as he reaches my Jeep, he passes by without even looking our way.

"What the fuck?" I wonder under my breath. I watch him walk, bewildered as to what the fuck he's doing. Maybe it didn't go well...

"Where's he going?" Jolyon asks

"I don't..." My puzzled expression drops and I roll my eyes again, "He's going to the taco truck."

"Oh, let's get tacos!"

I open my car door. "Yeah, come on."

Jolyon and I go hand in hand to the truck, where Negan hands the guy inside some money. Jolyon breaks away when we're close enough.

"Hi, Negan!"

Negan turns his head. "Hey, kid."

"We've been waiting for you!"

"Well, I'm worth the wait."

"Soufflés are worth the wait, you, I'm not so sure," I retort, sliding my sunglasses up onto my head, "What the hell, man?"

"What the hell?" Negan repeats, cocking his brow.

"Where have you been?"

"Where the fuck do you think I've been?"

I bite my lip. "You've been in Avery's office this whole time?"

"Oh, no," He shakes his head, "I was in and out within three minutes."

"What?" I furrow my brows. "Then what the hell was taking you so long?"

"I needed to get a few things in order before I locked up."

"You ass, you could've called and let me know!"

He chuckles. "I didn't feel like it."

"Asshole."

"Mom, I changed my mind," Jolyon takes my hand, "I don't want tacos, I just want chips and salsa."

"Okay," I open my purse and rifle through it, "Let me just find some cash."

"I got it." Negan says.

"No, it's okay, I-"

"I'm gonna add some chips and salsa to my order, Luis," Negan calls to the cook in the truck who nods his head, "You want anything?"

"No, I want to talk about what happened."

"What's to talk about?" Negan pays the man and takes his food, handing Jolyon the bag of chips and cup of salsa.

"What's to talk about?" I huff, "Did you hit your fucking head?"

"If I did, I don't remember," He starts to head back to the cars, "Come on."

Once in my car, I press him. "What happened in Avery's office?"

"What happened when you went in?"

"He asked me if Nanda was telling the truth about seeing us kiss in D.C.," I inform him, "I told him no and then he nodded and told me I could leave."

"Same," Negan unwraps his tacos, "I told him that she doesn't like you, because you embarrassed her in front of her friends when you got onto her on the trip and that she probably was just saying shit to get back at you."

"And he believed that?" I inquire.

"Yes," He bites a taco, "He gets how teenagers can be sometimes. I mean, she made a snotty ass comment about us fucking on the job. It's like I said before, students make up shit about teachers they don't like all the time."

"Yeah, but she likes you. In fact, she has a crush on you."

"Oh, then she said it because she's pissed because her little schoolyard fantasies got crushed."

I twist my mouth to the side. "So...you don't think this will get back to Lucille?"

"No; even if Avery thinks there's something going on, he's not gonna say shit to her."

"How do you know?"

"Because unless we actually get caught in the act, it's considered a personal affair...no pun intended."

I look at his causal manner, still nervous. "So...we're clear?"

"Crystal."

I sit back in my seat and sigh, alleviated from all the inner terror that has plagued me since I got that email.

"Want one?"

"What?" I look back over. "Oh, no. I ate my lunch."

"So did I, but I could've used a little more meat on my sandwich next time."

"Well, when I start sleeping with the deli guy, you can have all the sliced meat your heart desires," I dryly say, taking a taco after all, "I'm on a tighter budget now."

"See if the deli guy can hook you up with some better bread, too."

"Shut up," I chew, "If you want better bread, ask your wife to make your lunch."

"Mom, can I have a bite?"

"Sure, baby." I hold out my taco towards the back.

Jolyon stands up and tilts his head a little as he bites some of my taco away. "Thank you," He says with a mouthful, "Do you want one of my chips?"

"No, thank you, I'm good."

Jolyon looks over at Negan. "Hey, Negan?"

"Yes?"

"When are we gonna go to the bat cages?"

"The batting cages?" Negan corrects, "I don't know. Soon."

"When?"

"Soon, alright?"

"Aw!" Jolyon sits back down. "That means a long time!"

"No, it means soon."

"No, it doesn't!" Jolyon argues. "When Mom says it, it means for a long time!"

"Well, if you don't quit with the whining, then it is gonna be a long time. Got it?"

"...Yeah." Jolyon slumps in his seat, pouting.

Negan chuckles, looking back through the rearview mirror, before he looks at his watch. "Ah, hell."

 **...**

"Ease up on the bat, remember?" Negan corrects Jolyon's stance for the fiftieth time, "Alright, knock it out the park."

Jolyon swings the T-ball bat forward, knocking the ball off the tee. The ball flies farther than the last ball.

"Atta boy!" Negan puts his hand down. "Give me five."

Jolyon gives him an excited high five. "Did you see how far it went?"

"You're a natural, kid."

"Mom, did you see?"

"I did," I smile from my behind the netting, "Good job, babe."

"I'm super good at this!" Jolyon walks over to grab the ball.

"Cocky little shit."

I chuckle. "I thought you'd be proud."

"I am proud," Negan smiles back at me, "Modesty's for losers."

"Excellent sportsmanship." I look down at my phone.

"Get off that fuckin' thing and watch your boy."

"Just a second," I hit send and put my phone away, "There."

"And who the fuck were you texting?"

"None of your business." I stand up and walk towards them.

"It's not that ex of yours is it?"

I smirk, "He wants to know if I'm DTF."

Negan pulls me in as I lift up the netting. "What'd you tell him?"

"I said anytime, anyplace," I laugh as he brings me a little closer, "Anyway he likes me."

"Over _my_ dead fuckin' body." He laughs, planting a kiss on my lips.

I put my hand on his chest. "We're in public."

"Anytime, anyplace," Negan pecks my lips again, "Any fuckin' way."

"That's not for you," I bring my arm around his neck, "For you, it's 'whatever, let's just get this over with'."

He chuckles, "Hey, for fifty bucks, it's worth it."

"Oh, so that's why you gave me money?" I arch my brow.

"No, but I'll admit, I was hoping you'd be so grateful as to give me a little sweet and low."

"Nah, I'm an ingrate."

He laughs throatily. "Fuckin' figures."

"Mom, did you see that?" Jolyon calls.

I turn my head. "I did! Wow, you're getting so good!"

"I know!"

"Thanks to me." Negan says.

I roll my eyes, smiling. "Do you need constant validation, or something, you insecure little prick?"

"I might be a prick, but I sure as fuck ain't little."

"Hm, well, height wise, no."

"Shut the fuck up." He chuckles.

"Hey, I like your little Negan," I stroll past him, "But I've seen bigger."

"Then it wasn't fuckin' real," Negan scoffs, still humored, "I've seen my own dick, asshole, I know how big it is."

"Firstly, keep your voice down before we get booted from this place and secondly, I'm not saying you aren't big, I'm just saying that I've seen bigger."

"Yeah, fucking right. Whose?"

I raise my brows and smile.

His smile lowers. "Your ex?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I didn't get pregnant because the average sized condoms fit."

"You're fucking lying," Negan rolls his eyes at me, "You're trying to rattle my cool."

"I'm surprised he hasn't gotten that thing appraised."

He breaks into a light laugh and it makes me laugh, too. "You fuckin' crack me up."

I snicker. "Laugh all you want, but it's true."

"Tch, I've never heard you ask me if it's in yet."

"No, you're impressive, just like, second place."

"Second place is for fuckin' losers."

"Well, then you better fuckin' practice your modesty, sport," I pat his arm, "If it makes you feel better, I think you're better in bed."

"Don't try to cheer me up with shit I already know."

I smile at him.

"What?"

I shake my head. "Nothing."

"Mom, you should try." Jol offers me the bat, after taking a couple swings at the tee.

"It's a little low for me to swing at, babe."

"Just try anyway."

"Alright," I accept the bat, "Stand back, so you don't get hit, okay?"

With the ball on the tee, I stand in front of it, not even in proper stance. I swing the bat and knock the ball off, sending it faster than Jolyon could to the padded wall.

"Whoa!" Jolyon awes. "You're really good, Mom!"

"Thanks." I give him back the bat, glancing at Negan with a smirk on my face. "Hear that? I'm really good."

He huffs, "Any adult can hit a ball on a stand."

"Oh, yeah?" I cock my brow. "So, you're saying I'd be shit if I had to hit one coming at me?"

"You might be hot shit as a coach, but you haven't played in years," Negan teases, "You're rusty."

"Did it look like I needed to be oiled just now?"

"No, the thought of you oiled up ain't a bad picture."

"Jol, give me back the bat."

Negan laughs, "What do you say we let Jol hit for twenty more minutes and then we take this to the cages? I'll buy you a round."

"Buy me a round?" I scoff, "You want to pay for me to whoop your ass in front of all these people?"

I put my hand out, surveying the fifteen or so people here, half of which are employed here.

"I see where Jol gets his fuckin' cockiness from."

"Well, he sure as hell didn't get it from his dad."

Negan snickers, before his grin lessens a little. "Out of curiosity, how's that situation?"

"Fine," I say, looking over at Jolyon having a blast, "We've haven't really talked since Jol got back from Texas."

"No, I meant size, dipshit."

I knit my brows, glancing over at him. "Wha-? Oooh, you mean is he big?"

"Yeah, dumbass."

I look up as if to recall what Eugene looks like down there. "Uh...you know, I don't actually remember."

"Ah, so he's got a micro dick."

I chuckle, "I was a little gin tickled when we had sex, remember? I don't remember, because I wasn't really paying attention...can we not talk about my ex-lovers' willies?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call a dweeb you hooked up with once your 'lover'."

"Oh, so those random women you hooked up with weren't lovers either?"

"No, they aren't."

"But-"

"You know what? I think you've got the right idea about not talking about people we use to fuck."

Jolyon runs back over. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Oh, okay," I hold out my hand, "I'll take you."

"I don't want to go to the girl's room," He protests, "There's not one of those pee sinks in there."

"You mean a urinal?"

"Yeah, I want to pee in there."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not going in there, so maybe some other time."

"Aw!

"Urinals stink anyway."

"Maybe Negan can take me." Jolyon looks over to Negan.

"Jol, it's fine." I wiggle my fingers, "Come on."

"Will you take me to the bathroom, please?" Jolyon asks Negan.

"Uh, sure, I guess," Negan looks up at me, "If it's alright with Mom."

"Mom?" Jol turns his head my way with lamb eyes.

"Well...I guess it's okay," I meet eyes with Negan, "Will that be weird for you?"

"No, I guess not," Negan scratches the back of his ear, "He knows how to use one, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." He sighs. "Come on, kid."

"Yay!" Jolyon follows him.

I've never seen a kid so happy to pee in what I guess is just a "pee sink." Jolyon walks alongside Negan, reaching his hand over to fit into Negan's. Negan looks down, not expecting it, but then closing his hand around Jol's.

I go back over to the bench where my purse was and grab my phone. I breathe as I read the text message, texting back an "Ok."

A few minutes later, Negan and Jolyon come back from the bathroom.

Jolyon hurries over to me. "Mom, I peed in the urinal!"

"Do you feel accomplished?"

"Yeah, but I accidentally peed on the floor a little."

"How'd that happen?"

"I wasn't holding my penis, because the urinal was close to the ground, but I needed to hold it anyway."

"Oh...okay."

He puts out his hands, "I washed my hands. See?"

"I do see, thank you for doing that," I glance over at Negan, "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Sorry that you had to clean his pee off the floor."

"Oh, well, don't be, because I didn't."

I widen my eyes. "You didn't?"

"Fuck no, that's the janitor's job," Negan chuckles, "Besides, it was a kid's urinal; I'm sure it wasn't just his piss on the floor."

"Gross."

"Maybe even a couple of grown men with lazy aim."

I groan. "Who knew it'd be such a chore hold your own dick?"

"Are you gonna hit the ball over there, Mom?"

I follow where he's pointing. "Oh, yeah. We are."

"Are you better than Negan?"

Negan scoffs, amused. "Is she better than _me_? Have you lost your goddamn marbles?"

Jolyon giggles. "She said she was better than you."

"Don't believe everything you hear, kid," Negan motions with his head for Jol to follow, "Come on, we'll see who's really the best."

Apparently, there's a speedometer in some of the stalls that can either track how fast you hit, or pitch. Negan, being the competitive dickface that he is, insisted on doing both just because he thinks he can kick my ass.

He goes first, of course, in the batting dug out. As the machine whips the balls out, Negan hits them. Impressively, he clocks about seventy-seven miles per hour almost every time.

"Not bad, Coach." I admit.

"Think you can do better?"

"You bet your ass, sweet cheeks."

Negan grows a grin. "Your mom writes a lot of fuckin' checks with her mouth," He tells Jolyon, "Let's see if she can cash 'em with her ass."

"Go, Mom!" Jolyon cheers behind the cages. "You can beat him!"

"Whose side are you on?" Negan stands next to him.

"Mom's."

"I thought we were like this?" Negan holds up two crossed fingers.

"We are, but she buys me groceries."

"Yeah, with money I..." Negan trails off and then looks over at me, "Alright, fair enough."

I put the helmet on, before turning and giving the guy the okay to turn on the machine. I've always hated these things. It's so nerve-racking to sit and wait for that machine to spit out a baseball, especially the sound it makes.

Finally, it hurls a ball my way. I swing and the ball and bat collide. I check the speedometer. Seventy? I ready myself for another ball. I swing... seventy-one miles per hour.

"Looks like you better switch sides, Jolyon," Negan taunts behind the chain link, "Because mama's all talk and no swing."

"No, she's good, she's hitting them!"

"Not as fast as I was."

"You stop it!" Jolyon chides.

After a few more swings, it's determined that I am not a faster hitter than Negan. I take off the helmet. "Alright, I know when I'm beat."

"You did good," Jol puts his hand up, "High five."

"You're the best." I high five him.

"You wanna just call it quits now, while your son is still unashamed to high five you in public?"

"Shut your fucking chili hole," I shove the helmet his way, "I'm no quitter."

"That's my girl." Negan smiles.

"You ready to catch?"

"If you're ready to fuckin' pitch, asshole."

"Hope you like 'em fast and hard."

"Just as much as you do."

I'm in my element in the catcher's mound. I clock a seventy-four. Negan's not surprised at how fast I can pitch, since he's seen me at practice, but I do see him try to nonchalantly shake off his hand.

When it's his turn to pitch, I'm actually shocked at how well he can throw when he's not playing around.

"Nice throw," I say on his first pitch, "I expected you to make me chase it, though."

He shoulders tremble with laughter. "You fuckin' lippy ass bitch."

"I think I can be a little lippy when your speed was only a seventy, old man," I throw the ball back, "Looks like we might be at a tie."

"Oh, please," Negan talks back, "I'll admit, I'm impressed that you managed to keep your arm after all these years of boozing and losing, but I'm gonna fuckin' cream you."

I tilt my head back and laugh. "That would hurt my feelings, if I didn't score a seventy-four against a man who coaches this shit for a living." I motion him with my glove. "But if you're holding back, then give it all to me, daddy."

Negan bites his lip, smirking over at me. I'll admit it's got me hot. "Alright, here it fuckin' comes."

Ha! Negan's best is a seventy-two, I win. He tries to play it off like he was going easy on me, so I can save face in front of my boy, but he didn't break a sweat for nothing.

"Jol, mark it down that I'm a better pitcher than Negan."

"Okay," Jolyon swings our hands, "You're a better pitcher than Negan."

"Whatever," Negan rolls his eyes, "I'm still better at hitting."

"Yeah, but we're a pitcher's family, right, Jol?"

"Right."

"You don't even know what she's fuckin' talking about."

"Yes, I do!" Jolyon says, taking Negan's hand again in his other hand. "We like pitchers better, huh, Mom?"

"That's right, baby," I wink at Negan, "There's nothing better than a skilled pitcher."

"God, I want you so fuckin' bad right now." Negan purrs below his breath, smiling back at me with the look.

Jolyon looks up. "What?" He asks, truly unaware.

"I said, I want to go to bed right now, because I'm tired as fuck."

"Yeah, from getting your ass kicked."

"Nah, from kicking your ass."

"You should sleep over at our house." Jolyon suggests.

Negan peers back down. He itches his nose. "Uh, kid, I-"

"I thought we were gonna make a fort in the living room and camp out tonight?" I interrupt with a soft excuse.

Jol turns his head. "We are?"

"Yeah, don't you remember us making plans last night, when I was tucking you in?"

"No."

"Oh, well you must have been really sleepy," My eyes flick up at Negan, "It was just supposed to be a you and I thing."

"Oh, okay," Jolyon accepts my on the spot lie, "Sorry, Negan. We're busy."

He smiles. "Ah, well, maybe next time."

"Maybe you can join us next time."

"Yeah, maybe," Negan plays along, "But I don't know if I can stand to be under blankets with your mom's smelly morning breath."

"Mom doesn't have bad breath."

"Does to."

"Does not," Jolyon, argues back, "Mom's breath smells nice."

"Thanks, Jol."

"You suck up," Negan chuckles, "She's got bad breath in the morning and her hair's all over the place like a witch's rat's nest."

"Nuh-uh, Mom's hair is nice, too," Jolyon corrects him, "It smells good."

"I'm glad someone thinks she's pretty."

"She is pretty," Jolyon, says, casually, "My mom's the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

"Aw!" I wiggle his arm. "You are such a sweet son, Jolyon."

"There's no one beautifuller than you."

"I moisturize," I open the car door, "Alright, punk, get in."

"Bye, Negan!"

"See ya tomorrow, kid."

I shut the door once he's in. "Thanks for this. He really had a lot of fun."

"And you?"

"I'm wet."

Negan snickers in his throat, moving close. "If only I had time to get you home."

My smile humbles and I tuck some hair behind my ear. "I'm really glad Avery's not gonna do anything about Nanda's comment."

"Don't worry about it."

I nod, looking down. "I was afraid that he'd write us up and..."

"Lucille would find out?"

"Yeah..." I pick my eyes up, "I was afraid I'd lose this. You."

Negan puts his fingers under my chin as he leans down to kiss me. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

 **...**

It's bananas how fast time flies when you're screwing around with the gym coach. The end of the school year is days away. I've gotten a few looks from kids in the hall today at work, but I figured other kids that watched the fight would've heard what Nanda had said. Regardless if it's true or not, which it is, kids are gonna take it to be fact. Doesn't matter, though. They'll all forget it over the summer.

I'd love to stay and chat after school, but I can't. I have to get home A-SAP, so I'm hurrying towards the doors before Negan can find me and convince me to stay for absolutely no reason. I didn't tell him I had somewhere to be, because I don't want him know and assume the worst.

If I could run in these clogs, I would, so I can get to Happy Hands and be in Camden by four. Right now, speed walking is the best I can do.

"Bye, Ms. Barnes!" A student shouts.

I turn my head. "Oh, uh, bye, Alison." _Oof!_ I bump into someone from not paying attention. "Sorry, I..." I pause when I see it's Lourdes, "Uh, sorry."

"It's okay," Lourdes, says, oddly sincere.

"Alright, well, see ya." I move to go around her.

"Hey, Pippa?" She calls me.

I stop, cursing in my head. "Yeah?"

"Um...are you busy?"

I furrow my brows, puzzled, before I shift to look at her. "Uh, kind of. Why?"

She fixes her purse strap, nervous. "Well, I, uh...I was just maybe thinking we could grab a coffee, or something."

"Oh," I nod my head, still confused, "Well, I have to get home, but maybe tomorrow."

"Yeah, that works for me," Lourdes smiles a little, "Thanks."

"Sure...So...I gotta go get Jol, now."

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

"Bye."

"Bye," She says back as I start to leave again, "Pippa?"

I turn around again. "Yes?"

"I..." She wrings her hands, sighing, "I'm really sorry for what I said the other night."

"Oh..." Now, I touch my purse strap, "Okay. I'm sorry, too."

She smiles, nodding. "Okay."

"Okay," I repeat, starting to turn, but waiting to see if there's more.

"Sorry, go ahead and leave."

"Alright, see ya." I walk out of the school, down the steps with surprise.

I thought Lourdes would never speak to me again after our argument. She's sort of a grudge holder. But I'm not complaining; I do kind of regret what I said about her relationship with Simon, even if I think he's an absolute ass, and I miss being friends with her.

"Pip!"

Goddammit, I was so close. "Not now."

"Yes, now," Negan signs me over, leaning against his car, "I need to ask you something."

"Yes, I think you're pretty," I stop when I reach him, "But I have to go."

"Go where?"

"Home," I check the clock on my phone, "I've got shit to do."

"What shit?"

"Shit that's none of your business," I look at his car, "And why the hell do you care? Looks like you're leaving yourself."

"I am."

"Where to?"

"Home, where the fuck do you think?"

"What'd you want to ask me?"

"I wanted to know, if you applied to teach summer school."

"Psh, no," I scoff, "Who the fuck would?"

"Someone who needs the extra fucking cash, like you," He chuckles, "Or someone who doesn't want to fucking sit on their ass at home all summer, like me."

"You teach summer school?"

"Every year?"

"Pretty much, yeah. So, what do you say?"

"I was gonna maybe pick up a few shifts at Lorelei's over the summer..." I smile, "But I guess I could maybe teach summer school for four hours, four days a week."

"Three days a week."

"You're speaking my language."

"So, tell Diane you wanna do summer school."

"Okay."

"Good girl."

"Ew, don't make me change my mind."

"Just let her know tomorrow, you beautiful asshole."

"Fine," I chuckle, "So, why the eagerness to get home? You and Lucille got a date, or something?"

"Wouldn't you just like to know."

"Yeah, so I'll know why you're all needy tomorrow."

Negan flips me off. "We're entertaining those friends of Lu's with the crybaby teenager."

"Oh, so you definitely won't be getting any tonight."

"Fuck off, Barnes."

"If I knew what your last name was, I'd act all cutely formal, too," I put my foot forward, "But I guess I should go."

"Alright, see ya tomorrow."

"Okay." I wave as I walk to my car four cars down.

 **...**

It's five o'clock. The time was supposed to be four, but he said he might be late, so I'm not upset. It's probably hard to get away from home to come here. I never thought about that until now. I do the dishes as I watch from the window.

Dinner's gonna be jambalaya tonight, since Negan won't shut his mouth. The leftovers oughta keep him quiet. Jolyon doesn't like it when it's spicy, so I'll make him some mac 'n cheese and then he can have some cornbread and a half a can of green beans to go on the side.

"I finished my homework, Mom."

"Good job, hon."

"Do you wanna check it?"

"Do I wanna check your homework?" I walk over to the table. "Well, of course, I do."

I pick up the page he has in front of him. It's got a few rows of inspects and the instructions are just a circled number that specifies how many you should color in each row.

"Good job, Jol," I place it back in front of him, "You got 'em all right."

"Good, because I don't know to erase crayon."

I kiss the top of his head. "You're so smart."

The sound of a truck's brakes easing into a stop gets my attention. I go to the window and look out. He's here.

"How long until dinner's ready?"

"I haven't even made it yet."

"Well, how long?"

"I'll start cooking after Dwight leaves."

"Dwight's here?"

"Yeah." I barely say as I head over to the front door.

I pause as I see his figure moving beyond the glass of my door. I wait for him to knock, instead of just answering it, and even then I don't open it right away. I breathe and then open the door.

"Hey."

"Hey," He greets back on my porch.

I hesitate for a moment. "Come in."

"Hi, Dwight!" Jolyon waves from the table.

"Hi, Jol," Dwight smiles, giving a wave of the hand, "How are you?"

"I got all my homework problems right."

"Good job."

I smile at Jolyon. "Hey, babe, since you're done with your homework, how about you go outside and play in the backyard?"

"Can I go swimming?"

"After dinner."

"Okay." Jolyon puts his stuff away in his folder and backpack, then hops off his chair and goes outside.

I rub my arm, glancing back over to Dwight. "Would you like something to drink? I've got some lemonade."

"Uh, sure," He nods, "Sorry, I'm late."

"It's okay," I grab the pitcher from the fridge, "So, how have things been?"

"Um, fine, I guess."

I pluck a glass from the cupboard. "Are things still tense between you and her?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

I nod as I pour the lemonade into the glass. I hand it to him. "I saw her at the store the other day."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I touch my arm, "She looked...tired."

Dwight looks off in thought. "Huh."

I sigh through my nose. "I went to coffee with your mom about a week ago."

"Yeah, I know, she told me."

I meet his eyes. "Did she tell you what we talked about?"

"Yeah," Dwight nods his head, "She told me."

I twist my mouth to the side. "I-"

"I'm sorry."

"...What?"

"I'm sorry that she met with you, just so she could butt into what's none of her business."

I gaze at Dwight. "You're still planning on leaving Sherry?"

"Yes," Dwight sets the glass down on the table, "I'm just waiting for the right time."

I hold my elbows, stifling a scoff. "And when will that be?"

"Soon," He assures me, "The payroll clerk is retiring in a few weeks and Sherry's

gonna take her position. She'll make about twenty-two bucks an hour then, so she'll be okay."

"Okay?" Air blows through my nostrils. "Her husband is gonna drop divorce papers in her lap, I doubt she'll be okay."

"You know what I mean," Dwight says, "She'll be okay money wise."

I nod my head, smoothing my thumb back and forth on my skin. "Yeah, plus all the alimony she'll be getting from you."

"I don't care about that," He tells me, "I'll pay it, I don't care, I just want to be with you, Pippa."

"Where would we live?" I lean back on the kitchen counter.

"Here, for now, until we can find someplace else."

I look down at my bare feet. "Your mom said she wouldn't condone or support our relationship, given the circumstances."

He sighs, "Yeah, I know, but she'll come around. She can't stay mad at me forever."

"Yeah, but I don't know that I can handle not having Caroline's approval, or my family's for that matter."

"Do your parents know?"

"No, but Audrey does," I glance up at him, "I told her on Christmas, after she sent me to bed, drunk. She wasn't elated."

Dwight puts his hand on one of the chairs behind him.

"My parents don't know, but I can guarantee they'll be just as angry when they do."

"Well, sure, but they can't stay mad forever," He rationalizes, "None of them can. If we choose to be together, then they'll have to accept it."

"Or they'll disown us."

"Do either of our parents seem like they have it in them to cut us off?"

I exhale after a second's thought. "No."

"No, and Audrey will cool off in time, too," He steps closer to me, touching my arm, "It'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

I close my eyes. "The thing is, Dwight; I don't know that I want to figure things out."

"What do you mean?"

My eyes open and look up at his, earnest and apologetic. "I don't want to be with you."

Dwight furrows his brows. "What?"

I sigh, moving to the left. "Dwight, I've done a lot of thinking these past couple weeks and if I'm being honest, I don't want any of this to happen." I turn to face him. "I don't want you to leave Sherry, I don't want us to move into together, I...don't want us to be together."

His lips part, perplexed. "But, I thought-"

"That I wanted to be with you?" I interrupt. "I did, or I thought I did, but I know that I don't anymore."

Dwight huffs, astounded. "Pip, I...I love you, I-"

"I love you, too, D," I smile at him, trying not to break into tears, "But let's face it, neither of us really want this."

"I do," He claims, shrugging his shoulders, "I love you, I...want us to finally start over and get back everything we lost."

"We can't get back what we lost." I tell him, looking out through the right archway to the slider glass window. Jolyon's throwing his baseball and retrieving it around the yard. "It's like you said; that was fourteen years ago. We were kids."

"But we loved each other, Pippa."

"We still love each other," I look back, "But I don't think it's the same kind of love from before. I think it's just nostalgic desperation."

Dwight's eyes appear to get a little teary.

"We're not kids anymore, Dwight," I add mildly, "We're adults who are having an affair, because we stupidly keep trying make up for lost times, but when it comes down to it, we have nothing to make up to one another. Or, even ourselves. We were kids."

He swallows. "But I think about you," His watery eyes shift to me, "All I've thought about these past few weeks is how to leave Sherry, so I can be with you."

I smile bleakly. "You've been thinking about how to make sure Sherry would be financially secure."

"Yeah, but-"

"Dwight, I don't think you really want to leave her," I tread closer to him, "I think you love her, but things have been hard, so you've convinced yourself that it's because you've fallen out of love with each other, but I saw her the other day and that wasn't the face of a woman who wanted to be single again."

I put my hands on each side of his face. "And you being okay with paying her spousal support, because it'll help her, isn't the kind of thing someone feels for someone they don't love anymore."

Dwight blinks out a tear. "I do love her still, I just...it's hard. We aren't the same."

I wipe the tear away, feeling a rawness in my throat. "That's because we've been sleeping together for the past year."

"Yeah..."

I breathe. "I think you and I need to end things, Dwight."

His face winces a little. "I love you."

"And I will always love you," I move his hair tenderly behind his ear, "But we can't be together We don't belong with one another, not anymore. You love your wife and I...I'm trying to get my life together."

Part of me wants to say that I'm moving on, but how can I say that when I'm seeing another married man?

"Reconcile with your wife," I go on with a pain in my heart, "Tell her the truth and move on."

"What if she leaves me?" Dwight meets my eyes, genuinely worried of that possibility. "What she can't forgive me and she leaves?"

I bite my lip. "I don't know, but I bet if you tell her the truth and that you ended things with me, she'll hear you out."

Dwight's breathing falters slightly as more tears surface. "What if it's already too late for that? What if I've already put too much of a gap between us?"

"You won't know, unless you try," I tuck hair behind his other ear, "It'll probably take time, before she can forgive you, but she loves you, Dwight, and I know that she'd fight to keep your marriage together."

"How do you know?"

"Because she loves you and if she didn't, she'd have left already."

Dwight sniffs, considering what I've said. "Yeah."

I kiss his lips one last time, which he reciprocates. We embrace into a hug for a moment, where I close my eyes to take in his scent. His fingers feel my curls. I step back, smiling a teary smile. He smiles back in much the same way.

We walk to the door together. Dwight opens the door and steps out onto the porch, turning.

"Goodbye, Dwight."

"Goodbye, Pippa."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." He walks off my porch towards his car.

I close my door, going to the kitchen to view from the window. I see him look back once or twice before he gets into his truck. I watch him pull out of my yard and finally drive down the road, until he's out of sight. I won't lie, something does hurt inside me, but I think it's a good hurt. One that'll heal quicker this time.

The slider glass door opens. "Did Dwight leave?"

"Yeah, he's gone," I look over at my son, "Sorry, you didn't get to say goodbye."

"That's okay," Jol replies, "I'll say bye next time."

"Well, actually, honey, there isn't going to be a next time," I break it to him with a delicate tone, "Dwight's not gonna come over to our house anymore."

"Why not?" He inquires. "Did you get into a fight like you did with Lourdes?"

"Not, we didn't get into a fight," I smile mildly, "We just decided that it's better if we're not very good friends anymore."

"Are you still friends?"

"Um, sort of."

"So, we can still say hello to him and Sherry when we see them?"

"...Sure." I say, thinking that it'll probably be the contrary once Sherry finds out. That'll take some time to get past, too.

"Okay," Jolyon gets up on the chair he was sitting in before, "Are you gonna start dinner now?"

I put my hand on my hip. "Who do you think I am? Your mom, or something?"

"Yes, you are my mom!"

I chuckle. "Well, if that's the case, I'll start the stove."

 **...**

This morning, I woke up with radiance. Everything about me feels and looks more vibrant. It's like the lights have finally gone back on, after all these years of shadowy depression. I felt so giddy, I sang in the shower and laughed to myself as I brushed my teeth. I never knew I could feel this way again.

I think I've weirded out some of my coworkers and students with how much I've floated around like a fucking Disney princess.

Lourdes knocks on the doorframe of my classroom. "Hey."

"Hey," I say from my desk.

"Do you wanna grab lunch?"

"I thought we were gonna do coffee after work?"

"Yeah, I forgot that my mom wanted me to go to the movies with her," Lourdes explains, "She wants to grab some dinner before."

"Oh, okay, I have my AA meeting tonight anyway," I grab up my purse, "How is your mom?"

"She's good," She reports, "She got a job at this tearoom as a waitress and loves it. They're only open until one every day, so it's not too much."

"That's cool," I smile, putting a lid on my lunch.

"Oh, did you bring a lunch?"

"Just leftovers." I stick it in the little cooler I pack my lunches in. "I brought some for Negan, but he hasn't swung by yet, so his loss."

"Oh, he's not here today."

I look up. "He's not?"

"No, Diane came into the break room this morning, asking me if I could show the sub where Negan's office is."

"Oh." I guess I didn't notice his car wasn't in the parking lot this morning. I was running a little late today. "Why he'd call out?"

"No sé, Diane wouldn't tell me why," She says, "But Negan's the only one that has keys to his office, so the substitute was shit out of luck."

"Oh, okay." I reach into my purse for my phone.

"Where do you wanna go?"

"Any place you choose is fine with me."

I open my messaging with Negan. _"Hey, asshole, where are you at?"_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **CLTex: He really does enjoy spending time with Pippa and her son. Jol's sort of yearning for a father figure, since Eugene lives so far away, and Negan's willing to take that place.**

 **Izzy: I agree, it's very cute to see Negan eager to participate in Pippa and Jolyon's family circle. Lourdes' warning is likely a valid one that even Pippa is partly aware of, but she also says it out of bitterness of how she was treated and rightly so.**

 **StTudnoBright: Yeah, they really lucked out with that whole Nanda situation. Avery either believed them, or didn't care enough to butt in. I love the Negan's interactions with the cat as well.**

 **Happycamper: Lol, no, Negan definitely didn't like Pippa pointing out why he couldn't stay, even if it was not meant to be rude. He doesn't want to disappoint Jolyon!**

 **Savioursgirl: I love putting that little love/hate relationship Negan has with the cat as well. Pip seems to like him and he's just not having it. Yes, I agree, it was very sweet of Negan to give her money for groceries, so Jol and her could stay fed.**

 **jholland1288: Glad you crossed over and made your way to FYIWAF! Save Yourself is my baby, but I really love writing this fic, because of the banter and openness that Negan and Pippa can have with each other.**

 **Guest: Aw, unfortunately is looks a storm's a coming, but I'll try to fit in some tenderness between the two before the ZA. I will be taking FYIWAF into the Za, however, it'll only be about a 1-3 chapter epilogue. Where exactly it'll take place timeline wise, I can't say, but it's coming.**

 **PruRose: Glad you're-reading and enjoying! I wouldn't have guessed that English isn't your first language, you have such excellent syntax (hope that doesn't come across as rude). I have not considered a Simon fic, before, but I think one would be interesting to read! I love that Pippa wasn't too prideful and accepted the money as well :) As always, thank you for the lovely compliments!**


	45. Chapter 45

"I'm so glad you and Mom are friends again."

Lourdes smiles, kissing Jolyon's cheek. "I'm glad, too. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Jolyon crunches a Frito from the bag Lourdes gave him, "You're cool."

"Aw, you're so nice to me," She looks over at me, "I'll see ya tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"When do you wanna go out?" She puts her purse strap on her shoulder. "You know, for your belated birthday?"

"Oh..." I tap my pen against my desk, "How about this Saturday? Jolyon's spending the night at a friend's."

"Oh, that's perfect!" She claims. "This new restaurant just opened up downtown. We can go."

"Sure, sounds fun."

"Alright," Lourdes waves, "Bye, Pip. Bye, Jol."

"Bye!" Jolyon waves back. He then turns his head in my direction. "When can we go home?"

"I'm turning off my computer now," I check my phone, "But you're gonna go to Gran and Pop's for dinner, remember?"

"Because you have to go to your club?"

"Yeah, I have to go to my club." That's what I call my AA meeting around Jolyon; as far as he knows, it's a book club.

"Okay," He continues to eat his chips, "Hey, Mom? Where's Negan?"

"Uh, that is a good question," I look at my phone again, "I don't know where he is."

"Is he sick?"

"I don't know, babe," I pack up my things into my bag, "You ready to go?"

"Is he going to your club?"

I shrug. "I don't know, Jol. He'll probably be back tomorrow."

"I want him to," Jolyon puts on his backpack, switching which hand holds his chips, "It was boring in here."

"I get it, I'm boring and Negan's fun."

"Only at work."

I roll my eyes, smiling. "I'm sure he'd be glad to hear that."

"Will Gran make me chili mac n' cheese, if I ask?"

"Chili mac n' cheese?" I arch my brow. "When has she made that?"

"Never, but Hannah said her mom is making it for dinner tonight and I want it, too."

"Oh, well, I think she said she was making chicken parmesan tonight."

"What's that?"

I take his hand while holding my ringing phone up to my ear. "It's the chicken on top of noodles. You've had it."

"Aw, but I want chili mac n' cheese!"

"Maybe we'll have it tomorrow night."

"Okay."

Negan's phone goes to voicemail by the third ring, which makes me furrow my brows. That son of bitch sent me to voicemail.

"Pippa?"

I turn, shifting halfway. "Oh, hey, Diane."

"Your mailbox is a little full." She tells me from the doorway of the office.

"Oh, okay."

"I'll get it for you."

"Thanks."

"Uh-huh." She nods, running a finger under her eye as she goes back into the office. She returns promptly with five envelopes. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I say again, looking her over, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," She smiles, but I can tell she's maybe shed a few tears, "Have a good night."

"You do the same."

"Come on, Mom."

I look back at Jolyon. "Okay."

 **...**

The meeting gets out at its usual time, but it felt like it dragged on forever. Or it flew by, I'm not really sure; I was too busy fogging in and out of listening to other people's shares. My mind kept going back Negan not answering my texts. I get why he wouldn't answer my call, but he couldn't find the time to let me know what's up? I guess he didn't last time, but fuck him.

I go to my parents' house after the meeting to eat the plate my mom saved for me. Jolyon excitedly ran over to me as I entered the house to tell me that there's a peach cobbler in the oven that he helped my mom make. It's still light out, so he went out to play in their backyard.

"How was the meeting?"

"It was okay," I twist some noodles around my fork, "It can get pretty heavy sometimes, but everyone seemed to be doing alright."

"Well, that's good," My mom dries a dish, "Jol said that Negan didn't go with you this time."

"Nope, I went on my own."

"How come he didn't go?"

"Well, he technically shouldn't go," I cut into my chicken, "He isn't an alcoholic. Besides, he called out from work today."

"Oh, is he sick?" She asks, glancing over her shoulder.

"Don't know."

"Huh." Mom wipes down the sink with her rag.

I look up. "What?"

"Nothing," She shrugs her shoulders, "I was just listening."

I go back to eating. "He's not my boyfriend, you know?"

"I didn't say he was."

"I know, but I also know that Jol's been kind of giving that impression lately."

"No, he just says that you and this Negan fella are very good friends."

I roll my eyes, regretting ever putting that phrase in his head. "Well, so long as you know that this Negan fella and I aren't all that serious."

Mom nods her head. "Do you think you'll ever become serious?"

I bite my lip. "We sort of like what we've got now."

"I know, but..." She sighs when the oven timer goes off, "Never mind."

My eyes watch her open the oven door, letting the heat filter into the kitchen. "What?"

"Nothing," She suggests, placing the hot glass pan onto the stove, "Joe, could you get the ice cream from the freezer?"

"Sure, hon." My dad gets out of his chair in the living room and heads to the garage to get the ice cream from their second freezer.

I wait for the door to shut. "You think I should be in a relationship that's going somewhere?"

"You're an adult, Pippa, I can't tell you what to do," My mom sticks her oven mitts back in the drawer by the oven, "Lord knows I've wanted to, but you know what you're doing."

I can't help but scoff. "Gee, that sounded a little sarcastic."

"Well, I wasn't being sarcastic," She walks over to the slider glass door, "You've had your downs, but you've really been doing a good job lately." She draws the door back. "Jol, baby, come on in!"

Jolyon runs in, not far from the door. "Is it ready?"

"Sure is," She chuckles at his enthusiasm, "And it's perfect."

"We're good bakers?"

" _Great_ bakers," She musses his hair, "Go sit with your mom and I'll get you a plate."

"You have to eat some, too, Mom."

"I will when I'm done eating."

"Are you almost done?"

"Almost."

"Okay," Jolyon gets close to me, "Do you like it?"

"Do I like what?"

"Your dinner?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"I don't like the sauce."

"It's like spaghetti, Jol."

"No, it's not," He whispers, "I don't like it."

"Did you eat?"

"Yes, Gran scraped off the sauce."

"You are too picky."

"You can say that again." My mom giggles. "He didn't even want the sauce on the noodles."

"Why are you such a pill?"

"I'm not a pill, you are!"

"I think we've already established that I put my food away," I chuckle, "You, on the other hand, always need some type of accommodation."

"No!" Jolyon laughs.

Mom sets a delectable plate of cobbler in front of Jolyon. "Let it cool."

The aroma of cinnamon, brown sugar, and peaches fills my nostrils. "Is Dad coming back with vanilla bean ice cream?"

"Yes." Right as she confirms that, the door to the garage opens and Dad comes back in.

"Maybe I will take that cobbler now." I get up with my plate.

"You wanna take some home, too?" Mom asks me, sliding a spatula under the cobbler. "We'll probably have leftovers."

"Sure."

"We can take some to Lourdes," Jolyon blows on a spoonful, "Mom and Lourdes are friends again, Gran."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah, she missed me."

"Who wouldn't miss you?" She smiles at him.

Jolyon sticks the spoon in his mouth, making an alarming face, before opening his mouth and letting the peaches fall back on his spoon. "That's too hot!"

"Drink some of my water." I push the glass his way. "You okay?"

He fill his mouth with water, holding in with full cheeks for a moment. He swallows it down, sighing. "Yeah, but is my tongue burned?"

"Open wide," I examine his tongue, "Mm, nothing a little ice cream can't alleviate."

"One scoop, or two, Jol?" Dad asks with the ice cream scoop in hand.

"Two."

"One." I tell my dad.

My dad scoops him an extra big scoop that would equal out to two. "There you go, kiddo."

I smirk at him, cocking my brow. "I guess that scoop is really only a suggestion rather than a measure. "

"The boy burned his tongue," My dad laughs, "And grandpas are supposed to do things like that."

"Whatever." I snicker.

"Here, baby." My mom hands me a plate.

"Thanks," I let my dad stick some ice cream on this hot fucker before I take a bite, "Damn, this is good."

"We should take some to Negan, too." Jolyon suggests.

"Think so?" I blandly say with a small mouthful.

"Yeah, and Lucille."

My eyes grow wide.

"Who's Lucille?"

I shake my head, swallowing. "Oh, she's the superintendent," I dismissively shrug, "She's been around a few times. She's really nice to Jolyon."

"Oh, well, do you want me to pack some for her?"

"No, we don't see her that often."

"Okay."

"I hope Negan's there tomorrow at your work," Jolyon says, thankfully not correcting me on Lucille's true identity, "He's my best friend. Well, besides Hannah. Hannah's my kid best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend?" I reply, mildly hurt if I'm being honest.

"You're my mom, you can't be my best friend," Jol digs his spoon into his cooled cobbler, "You can only be my mom. Lourdes is my best adult friend that's a girl."

"Oh...I see."

His eyes glance me over. "But you're the best mom in the whole world."

"Thanks, baby."

"Actually, you're the best mom in the whole universe," He corrects, "Dad said that's bigger than the world."

I smile, "You're the best son in the whole universe."

"Thanks."

The three of us chuckle at his nonchalant retort.

My mom clears her throat. "Speaking of Eugene," She scoops herself some cobbler, "Have you spoken to him lately?"

"No, why?"

"Well, because I was thinking it might not be such a bad idea if you ask for a little support, considering your financial situation."

"I'm fine."

"Not when you're struggling after the fifteenth of every month," Mom softly presses, "I know you're a little prideful, but I don't see anything wrong with asking him to send a little money once or twice a month to help you out. You're taking care of his son after all."

"Mom, you know why I can't ask," I meet hers and my Dad's eyes, "Pride aside, I wouldn't feel right about asking him after how I've treated him."

"Honey, I'm sure that he'd be more than happy to send you some money," Mom smiles sympathetically, "I only met him once, after Jolyon was born, but he seemed like a very sweet man. And he's offered before."

I exhale. "I don't know...I'll think about it."

"I think you should, Pipsqueak." Dad says.

I nod my head, eager to stop thinking about it, while also mulling it over. Should I call him?

 **...**

"Alright, give me a hug." I spread my arms out.

"Bye!" Jolyon hugs me.

"See you tomorrow, punk," I peck his forehead, "If you need to call me, tell Paula, okay?"

"Okay."

"Come on, Jolyon!" Hannah waves him over from inside the house.

"I gotta go, Mom."

"Alright, go." I smile, watching him run off with his friend. "Thanks for having him over, Paula."

"Of course, he's such a pleasure to have over."

"I'll be by around eleven tomorrow."

"Alright, sounds good!" She smiles brightly. "You look pretty put together. You going somewhere?"

"Oh, yeah, my friend wanted to go out to dinner tonight, so I'm heading over there now."

"How fun!" Paula says. "Have a good time!"

"Thanks."

"See ya tomorrow."

"You, too."

Lourdes lives about ten minutes away from Paula's house, so I drive a little slow, knowing that she'll need a little more time to get ready. If I'm being honest, I really don't want to go. I mean, I want to hang out with Lourdes and fully get over the argument we had, but at the same time, I'm a little distracted at the moment. Negan didn't show up for work again yesterday and he hasn't returned any of my attempts to reach out to him.

I'm really starting to worry. I'm almost tempted to drive by his house and see if he's home, but that's creepy, so I won't. It's just driving me up the wall to not hear from him. I'd gladly take a "Fuck off" text, just so I knew he was seeing my messages. I even told him Jolyon was spending the night somewhere tonight to see if that would pique his interest. Desperate, I know, but I'm willing to try anything.

My eyes pay attention to the street signs, knowing that I'll eventually see the street he lives on. There it is. I breathe out as I drive past it, going towards Lourdes' street five minutes down.

When I finally arrive, I don't see Simon's Camaro parked out front, which is a good sign. That was another reason I didn't want to come tonight. I know that being Lourdes' friend now means that she knows how I feel about Simon, but I'm not at liberty to say anything about it, because she's still with him. But I fucking can't stand him.

The dog barks as I walk up to the front door. I knock and a second later I hear, "It's open!" So, I open the door and go in.

"Hey!"

"Hey!" Lourdes calls back from her bedroom. "I'll be out in a minute! Help yourself to whatever!"

"Okay," I chuckle down at the tail wagging Cleo, "Hi, baby!"

Lourdes walks into sight, fixing an earring on her left ear. "Hey."

"You look great."

"Same to you," She laughs, "You're literally the hottest mom I've ever seen."

I laugh back. "Thanks."

"I managed to get reservations at the restaurant we're going to, so we won't have to wait forever," Lourdes looks for her purse, "Which is great, because I'm starving."

"Me, too." I tuck some hair behind my ear. "Jolyon and I had fried bologna sandwiches at lunch but I didn't really eat."

"Well, dinner's on me tonight, so eat up."

I snicker, "Alright, I'll try not to make you regret it," I look towards the living room, "Where's Simon?"

"He's working," She grabs her purse, "He should be home before we get back."

"Oh, okay." Thank God.

 **...**

Lourdes and I have a blast. It felt like quote-unquote old times, like we never fought. Dinner was delicious and afterwards, we went out for cake at this cafe, since I'm sober now. Lourdes had an Irish coffee, but it wasn't enough to get her lit. I thought we would go back to her place after apple coffee cake, but she asked if I wanted to catch a movie, so we caught an old black and white drama that started at nine-thirty.

I guess the movie theater in Southcastle plays one old film every Saturday. She said she use to go all the time, but hadn't gone in a while, since Simon always has other plans. Okay, she said he doesn't like going to the movies, not that he had "other plans" but let's be honest, he's an inconsiderate prick who just wants to screw around when he isn't working.

We get back to her house around ten to midnight and by then, Simon is home. Lourdes doesn't seem to notice, laughing at this hilarious story from her childhood. I have to use the bathroom, so I walk with her to door.

"It's so late," She yawns, kicking out of her heels, "I didn't realize that movie was two hours long."

"It was good," I yawn back, "The popcorn was better."

"The popcorn is always better," Lourdes chuckles, looking over at the clock on the oven, "You know, it's pretty late, Pip. You could stay the night, if you want."

"Oh, I don't want to impose."

"No, it's fine, really!" She insists, "You're clearly tired and you wouldn't have to drive all the way back up here to get the brat."

"Well..."

"I have a guest room you can stay in."

I bite my lip. "I suppose it'd be okay. Simon won't mind, will he?"

"No, he's probably asleep," Lourdes puts her hair up, "Besides, who gives a shit if he does? It's my house."

I chuckle, "Alright."

"I'll show you where it is."

I go down the hall with her, passing her bedroom on the way. There's a light on and when we pass, I hear a small creak.

"Lour?"

"Hold on!" Lourdes tells him. She opens the door to a bedroom that's got a full sized bed. "Here you go. You can use the bathroom we just passed."

"Okay, thanks."

"I'll bring you something of mine to sleep in."

"Okay."

"Be right back."

When she leaves, I turn on the light and toss my purse on the bed, take my shoes off, and head to the bathroom to wash my face. In the bathroom, I can sort of hear Simon and Lourdes talking. Simon's talking low, so I can only make out what sounds likes muttering. Lourdes apologizes for being later than I guess she had told him she'd be home. She also explains why I'm staying the night and that we've both had a really long night. That she's tired.

I turn the sink on and it makes it harder to hear what's being said. I find some cold cream in the medicine cabinet I can use to clean my face. After that's done, I shut off the water and reach for the little hand towel.

"Okay," Lourdes softly says, "Just...just give me a minute and I'll be ready."

She steps into the bathroom as I dry my face. "Here."

"Thanks," I take the shirt and pajama bottoms, "Is everything okay?"

Her eyes pick up. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"You sure?" I ask, "He's not mad that I'm staying is he?"

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about it," She smiles a little, "He's just mad that I didn't call to say I'd be late."

I nod, looking her over. "Okay."

"Well," She exhales, "Have a good night."

"Night."

I change real quick into the soft shirt and bottoms and carry my stuff back into the bedroom. The door to Lourdes' bedroom is shut as I go down the hall. I pull back the blankets and get into bed, snuggling down since it's chilly in here. I look at my phone, peering over at the times in which I called, or texted Negan.

I swear, if he comes to work on Monday without a broken arm, or something, I'm gonna fix that for him. I huff; I can picture the smirk I'd like to smack off his face right now. I set an alarm and then put my phone on the little end table. Look at me, worrying about nothing. It's fucking Negan.

"Si-simon, wait," Lourdes says down the hall, "I need to catch up; go slow."

"Since when do you like things slow?" He chuckles in response.

"I'm not ready yet."

"Get the lube outta the drawer then."

"I-"

"Never mind, I'll do it."

I stare at the nearly closed door.

"You gonna put it on, or you want me to do it?"

"I..." She sighs, "I'll do it."

"Atta girl."

My stomach hurts as I listen to this. Negan says that a lot. Atta girl. But it's never sounded like that before.

"You good to go?"

"...Yeah."

"Excellent." Simon's voice perturbs me.

"Just be quiet, please," Lourdes asks of him, "I don't want Pippa to hear us."

A split second later, a sharp, but purposely quiet gasp is heard. It sounded a little painful. The bed in the other room begins to rock, quick and then hard. I get up and close the door, but it does no good. Surprisingly enough, I hear Lourdes moan. I climb back into bed and lay on my side. I knew I should have gone home.

The two go at it for about forty minutes or so. Simon doesn't really make all that much noise, except a few grunts and curses here and there. Lourdes is in full swing though. She moans and mewls loudly, encouraging him to keep going.

"Yes, yes!" She shrieks, making me roll my eyes. "Oh, god, baby, that's it."

The rocking increases more and more and more. She lets out a cry of what I guess must be ecstasy, while he continues to damage her wall. She wildly carries on, until the bed stops rocking.

"Fuck." Simon exhales and the bed creaks.

"I love you." Lourdes says demurely.

"Pass me my lighter."

 **...**

My eyes lull open as I wake up. Is that...yelling? I furrow my brows, blinking a few times to try and grasp understanding. The door's open a little from last night, when I had gone to the bathroom. Yeah, that's definitely yelling.

"Why don't you calm the fuck down!"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm- don't fucking touch me, you fucking bastard!" Lourdes screams.

What the fuck is going on? The door opens more as Cleo pads in, leaping up on the bed.

"How long has this been going on?!"

Cleo lies down beside me, putting her head down. She lets out a childish whine of concern.

"I told you," Simon retorts in a heated, stern tone, "Nothing's-"

"Don't you dare fucking lie to me!" Lourdes yells over him. "I'm not a fucking idiot! She texted me, you son of bitch; she got my number from your phone!"

"For fuck's sake, Lour!" He shouts, making Cleo lift her head up. "Who are you gonna listen to? Me, or some woman you don't even know?!"

"Why would she lie, Simon? Huh? What the fuck is in it for her to hurt me?"

"She's an ex-girlfriend of mine, Lourdes; do the fucking math."

"You've been asking her for pictures! You've been fucking her behind my back!" She cries. "All those fucking late nights? I should have fucking known. Has this been going on the whole time we've been together? Have you been screwing us both all this time, or what? Was it her perfume I smelt months ago? God, I am so fucking stupid!"

She sobs distraughtly. I continue to lay in bed, staring at the door like the dog.

Lourdes sniffs, "I...I love you and all you've ever done is just lie to me and give me pills, or pot."

"I didn't force you to do anything, you weren't down with doing."

"No, but I did it for you!" She argues back. "I do everything for you. You think I wanted to live like this? Always being stoned and sore from fucking all night? My mother, coworkers, and students seeing all the hickies and bruises, knowing that I'm your fucking whore! Or, one of them anyways."

"You wanted to take that shit and when we fuck, you beg me to be rough."

"Yeah, but you promised you wouldn't leave marks! But what do you care? You only care about yourself and your dumb dog."

Simon groans, unsympathetic. "Quit with the fucking crying! All you fucking do is bitch and moan and cry that I don't fucking care about you. I keep you well, don't I? Pay all your bills and buy you nice things every now and then and take you places. Isn't that enough for you?"

"You can't just throw your sketchy money at me and act like it means something more than you buying my time."

"I told you when we met, I didn't believe in all that love crap."

"I saw the texts, you fucking idiot! You said you loved her!" Lourdes wails, which is followed by a loud _crash!_

I rapidly sit up and the dog barks, alarmed.

"That almost hit me, you crazy bitch!"

"Why is she worthy of that, but not me?"

"You know what? I'm done with this shit," Simon callously replies, "If you're not gonna listen to a word I'm saying and act like a fucking baby, then I'm leaving until you're ready to settle the fuck down and be an adult."

"Yeah, why don't you pack your shit up while you're at it?"

Simon chuckles, "Are you kicking me out?"

"Yes, I'm kicking you out!" Lourdes hotly scoffs. "This is my house!"

"Yeah? Who makes the fucking mortgage payments around here, chica?"

"You can take your fucking money and shove it up your ass!"

"Un-fucking- real," Simon laughs and I hear footsteps, "Adios, Lour."

Lourdes cries out in angry despair. "How could you do this to me? How can someone be so fucking cruel and not give a shit to the one person who gives a shit about them?"

Simon whistles sharply. "Cleo!"

The dog's ears flinch at the sound her master calling her. But, she doesn't move from the bed. She just wiggles nervously in place, whining.

"Cleo!" Simon calls again. "Come on, girl!"

Cleo doesn't go trotting off like she appears to be eager to want to do.

"Whatever." He faintly mutters, before the quick opening and slamming of the front door.

Lourdes sobs in her bedroom. An engine roars and peels out of the driveway and down the road. In bad timing, the alarm on my phone goes off on the nightstand behind me. I quickly grab it and turn it off, then listen. Lourdes' crying stops for a moment, as if she's listening to hear if I'm awake. But, her despair starts up again soon enough.

I count to five in my head, before I get out of bed and walk barefoot to the door. Cleo jumps off the bed, ready to accompany me. I go down the hall and stop just before I reach her open door.

I tuck my hands under my arms, biting my lip. "Lour?"

She doesn't respond.

I take a breath, before I turn and enter the room. I find her on the floor by the edge of her bed, completely beside herself and crying into her hands. She's got on her underwear, but I can see her breasts beneath the silk robe she has loosely tied across her body.

"Lourdes?"

"He's fucking cheating on me!" She tells me hysterically. "He's been seeing an old girlfriend."

"O-Oh."

"She texted me this morning and told me what's been going on," Lourdes uncovers her eyes and looks up at me, "She swears she didn't know that he was seeing anyone."

I sheepishly tread over to her, contemplating whether or not I should sit on the bed, or on the floor with her.

"What did he say?" As if I don't already know.

"He lied and said she was lying, but she sent me copies of their messages!"

"Shit," I slink from the bed to the floor. "I'm sorry, Lour."

She leans over to me, gasping for air as she sobs harder. "He told her loved her!"

I hold her in my arms, soothing her hair with my hand. I shush her calmly like I had in D.C.

"He never says that to me!" Lourdes pathetically cries. "Why won't he say that to me? Why aren't I good enough?"

"You are."

"W-why aren't I ever good enough?" She continues, "Why don't they ever love me back?"

"Because they're assholes."

Lourdes grips the sleeve of my shirt that's technically hers. "I just want to be loved; is- is that too much to ask?"

"You are loved, Lour," I softly assure her, "I love you...and Jolyon loves you."

She keeps crying and I just let her. Cleo rests her head in my lap, so I place my free hand on her head, rubbing her ear for a few seconds. Fuck.

 **...**

For a late spring morning, it sure is fucking hot out. The weather lady said it wasn't supposed to heat up until eleven. It's a good thing my homemade breakfast sandwich isn't hot anymore. I sit in the back of my Jeep, waiting for the bell to ring and waiting for signs of life from my little darling gym coach who's been M.I.A. for the last few days.

Lourdes said she was running late, but she'll make it before school starts. After what happened yesterday morning, I hardly expected anything less. Jesus, what a mess. Not Lourdes, the whole enchilada. As much as I hate to say it and would never say in front of her, it didn't honestly surprise me to find out that Simon was cheating on her. It's not the first time she's thought that this year, this was just the first time she had proof.

Still, I fucking hate his guts. I sat with Lourdes for an hour and a half on her bedroom floor, drying the tears that motherfucker caused. I have no knowledge as to whether or not he came back last night. I called her right before bed and she said she was okay with a weepy voice. She also said he hadn't come back yet, but I can't imagine he'd leave his dog. I just hope she doesn't listen to his "it's just a misunderstanding" bullshit and take him back.

I nurse the espresso I bought on the way to work, because I swore I wasn't going to have any unnecessary expenses. My coffee machine doesn't make espresso, though, and so it was deemed necessary this morning. I needed it after the day I had comforting Lourdes.

I turn my head to the left when I see a car enter the parking lot. Well, well, well, look who's pulling into his parking space. I observe the asshole open his door and climb out of his Mustang. He puts a ball cap on and sniffs, before locking his car and heading this way.

I get out of my trunk, closing it up. By time I turn from locking the trunk, Negan's already passed me. "Hey!"

"Hey." He flatly greets back, continuing to walk.

I speed up. "Did you fall off the face of the earth?"

"Feels like it.

I catch up to him. "Is your phone broken, or something?"

"Nope," Negan curtly tells me, "You know not to call me at home."

"Well, I was worried."

"You worry too fucking much."

I arch my brow. "Yeah...I guess." I bite my lip. "How was your weekend?"

"It was fine."

"Mine was shitty"

"Can't fucking relate."

"I went out with Lourdes and ended up staying the night at her house," I pick up my pace, since he's taking longer strides, "The next morning, her and Simon got into a huge ass fight and I had to stay to clean up the aftermath."

"Huh." He barely says.

"...Are you alright?"

"Peachy."

"Well, you don't seem peachy to me," I retort, "In fact, you seem a little icy."

"Hm."

I furrow my brows. "Hey."

Negan keeps walking, despite me putting my hand on his arm.

"Hey, stop for a second!"

"What?!" He snaps.

My eyes scan his. "What the hell's up?"

"Nothing's up, Pippa. Jesus."

"Then why are you being an asshole?" I ask him.

Negan looks me over with scowl, exhaling through his nose. "I'm not, I just don't want to fucking do this needy shit every fucking time I'm gone from work."

I scoff, "Okay, sorry for asking about you."

He rolls his eyes at my attitude. "Whatever."

I start back up again, climbing the steps to the entrance. "Did you put in for summer school?"

"Yeah, but I changed my mind," Negan curtly says, "I'm not teaching summer school."

"What?" I toss my empty sandwich bag. "But you told me to put my name in. I thought-"

"I decided to spend the summer with my wife." He looks at me.

I meet his oddly cruel gaze. "Oh...okay."

His eyes travel over me again. He licks his lips, frustrated. "I gotta go. I gotta get all my shit together before first bell."

"Okay," I swallow, "Do you wanna eat lunch together?"

"No, I'm gonna catch up on work."

I nod, even though he's already started to walk away. "Well, how about after work then? I could grade papers in your office and-"

"Jesus Christ, Pippa!" He looks over his shoulder.

My mouth hangs open a little. Our eyes meet and I'm taken back. Am I really being needy? "...I'm sorry. Jolyon's just been eager to see you, I just..." I can't finish the sentence because I'm still trying to get a hint from his now less sharp eyes.

Negan sighs, hanging his head. "Look, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just...busy. I can't hang out."

"Okay." I rasp.

The bell rings and students begin to come out of nowhere like bees. Negan glances back at me for a moment and then continues down the hall to his office. I stand in the hall, utterly confused.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **PruRose: Oh, no, he wasn't being short with Jol, he was just being a "dad" lol. I think he just responded to Jolyon's complaining like a father would, which seemed to work for Jolyon. And unfortunately, it looks like it is time for you-know-what. :/**

 **CLTex: I agree; as odd/warped as it may sound, Negan and Pippa do make more sense than Dwight and Pippa. Their relationship is pretty black and white and they both have a clear understanding of one another, whereas Dwight and Pippa seems to want to revert back to when they were teenagers. They don't really expand their knowledge on one another, so they don't really know each other like Pippa and Negan do.**

 **Savioursgirl: Aw, I'm flattered you enjoy this story so much! I know, they work so well as a little family and Pip's almost as good a match for Negan as Lucille is. They've got this cute, humorus competitiveness that Negan totally lives for when he's around her.**

 **Happycamper: Negan as a dad is one of the my favorite pieces to write, because the way is with Jolyon is the way I imagine he'd be if he had kids in the comic. Glad you like my spin on him! And yes, Pippa and Dwight's offical break up is a good thing for the both of them, but most importantly, for Pippa.**


	46. Chapter 46

"Don't forget to take your essays with you," I instruct my students, "If you don't find yours in the pile, it's because I've kept it to pin up on the corkboard."

My fourth period students get up to go to lunch, either stopping by my desk to sift through the stack of essays, or just walking out with zero regard of picking theirs up. I stand at my desk, trying not to look antsy like I'm eager for them to go. Ravinder, who's one of the last people out, stops to search for her essay.

"It's not in there," I tell her, "I'm gonna put it on my board, if you don't mind."

She shrugs, adjusting her backpack strap. "That's fine."

"Okay," I nod my head, "Hey, Rav?"

"Yeah?"

"Isn't book club on Mondays?" I ask her, "You guys haven't met in a while."

"Oh, um..." She turns around and faces me, "We sort of meet in the library now."

"O-oh...Okay."

"Yeah, you were always stepping out and we got told we weren't allowed in here without you."

I dig the skin around my thumb. "Oh, sorry about that."

"It's okay. We're still a club, just an unofficial club now."

"Okay."

"See ya tomorrow."

"See ya."

She exits my classroom and I sigh, unable to muster the courage to talk to her about the fight and what I know she knows. I plop down in my desk chair and pull open my drawer to get my lunch out. I contemplate going down to Negan's office, but after this morning, I think I'm gonna wait for him to come to me.

I pull out my sandwich, wincing a little. I'm getting real sick of sandwiches. I can only get so creative with them, before they all start to blend in on the taste buds. Jolyon's easier to pack lunches for, surprisingly. He just wanted his turkey sandwich to be cut with our heart- shaped cookie cutter.

A humble knock on my door frame get my attention. "Hey."

"Hey," I greet Lourdes, trying not to sound a little disappointed, "Come in."

"I can't," She shakes her head, "I left my grade book at home, so I have to go grab it."

"Oh, okay," I look over her drained complexion, "How are things?"

"He hasn't called and he hasn't come home yet."

I nod, "Are you hoping he will?"

"I want him out of my house," Lourdes groans, "...But I'm afraid he'll try to convince me that it's all just a 'misunderstanding'."

"You're worried he could convince you of that?"

She, in all honesty, I think, shrugs. "He's convinced me of a lot things since I've been with him."

"Would you take him back if he did?"

Lourdes shrugs again. "No sé."

"You want me to come with you?"

"No, it's okay," She assures me, "I just came by to see you real quick."

"Okay."

"...Do you wanna grab a coffee or something after work?" She asks, anxious. "I'll buy."

"Oh...okay."

Lourdes nods her head. "See ya."

"Bye."

I watch her go, worried. God help her if Simon's back at the house. I don't want to think that Lourdes would take him back, she was utterly heartbroken yesterday, but she's accepted his lies and excuses before.

My eyes check the clock on the wall on the other side of the room. Negan's not been by yet, but I guess the lunch period just started.

 **...**

After work, I collect my things up and lock my classroom, not lingering. Lourdes said she'd wait for me to get Jolyon from Happy Hands, if I wait for her to close up. I put my purse strap on my shoulder and head towards the parking lot, not resisting the urge to peer over my shoulder very well, every couple seconds.

I haven't seen Negan all day since he snapped at me this morning. I guess I could've gone and looked for him, instead of waiting like a dog at home, but that encounter left me a little shy of that.

When I get outside, I see that his car is still parked in his spot. I glance back, as if he'll be there, before I trot down the steps. The walk to Happy Hands is almost unbearable. It's a hot day, so sweat beats up fairly quickly. I pull my hair up and keep stepping.

Once there, I give a quick "hello" to Miss Jessica, who's bubbly countenance couldn't starve off a feeling of uncertain resentment. Like she has a clue as to what's going on between Negan and I, after that time he came in with me, but is also too sweet and too giving of the benefit of the doubt to not believe my excuse. It's been this way since. Nevertheless, I politely say hello and goodbye and help Jolyon eagerly get ready to go.

He holds my hand on the walk up the street. "Did Negan come to work today?"

"Yes," I dismissively confirm, "He did."

"Yay!" Jolyon cheers, leaping up, "We can hang out, so you can grade homework."

"Well, actually baby, we're gonna go get some coffee with Lourdes."

"Aw," He complains, "I don't want coffee! It's too hot!"

"Well, maybe you can have a chilled hot chocolate."

"Let's ask Negan to go, too."

I don't reply right away, twisting my mouth to the side. "We'll see."

Upon reaching the school, I get a faint whiff of marijuana smoke. On the left side of the steps, I find Lourdes smoking a joint, no doubt dealt to her freely by that asshole, hopefully _ex_ -boyfriend of hers. My eyes change direction when I see Negan's tall figure coming down the steps.

"Look, Mom!" Jolyon goes running up on the school, up to Negan.

"Jol." I sigh, picking up my pace.

"Negan!" Jolyon calls after the coach walking towards his car. "Negan!"

Lourdes looks our way, instantly throwing down the joint and stepping on it. I watch after my kid, trying to flag down Negan whose back is still turned.

"Negan, wait!" Jolyon shouts, before he trips on his own feet and biffs it on the pavement.

"Shit," I come up on him, "Are you alright?"

He pushes himself on his knees and inspects the palms of his hands. "Yeah."

"Let me see," I check his hands, which have some scuffs from the fall, "Not too bad."

"My knees hurt."

"Oh, yeah, we're gonna have to clean 'em up." I say, after seeing a trickle of blood running down his left knee. I put my hand out. "Up you go."

"Are you okay, Jol?" Lourdes comes over, concerned.

"Yeah, but my hands and knees sting," Jolyon looks at his knees, "But it's okay, I'm not gonna cry."

"You're so tough."

"Let's go clean you up." I put my hand on the back of his shoulder.

"What the hell happened?"

We all turn to see Negan suddenly back here, glancing over Jolyon with a sun-induced squint.

"He fell," I tell him, "Chasing after you. Didn't you hear him calling your name?"

"Yeah, I heard." He simply replies.

I puzzle my brows. "Why didn't you stop?"

"Because I don't have time to lollygag today," Negan answers, "I have to go home."

"Aw, really?" Jolyon looks up at Negan. "You can't stay?"

"No, not today."

"Tomorrow?"

"Jol, we need to-"

"I don't know, probably not." Negan informs him, making me look back.

"When?" Jolyon inquires.

"I don't know," He exhales, getting his car keys out of his pocket, "But I have to go now, so I'll see ya around, alright?"

"Alright," Jol nods, obviously disappointed, "Bye."

"Bye." Negan turns and walks away without so much as a 'see ya' or any other variance of acknowledgement thrown my way.

I can't help but watch him leave, bewildered, as he reaches his Mustang and climbs in. I finally look away when he drives out of the parking lot, speeding off down the road. My eyes fall on Lourdes, but quickly move to Jolyon.

"Come on, let's get the first aid kit from Diane."

 **...**

Jolyon wanted ice cream instead of hot chocolate, so Lourdes led us in her car to this little malt shop like place. I almost shot down Jolyon's ice cream idea, because Lourdes invited us to coffee, but before I could, she agreed that ice cream sounded way better. I ordered Jolyon just a simple double scoop with sprinkles, along with an ice cream sandwich for myself, which I know Jolyon would ask for a bite of.

Well, that was of course until Lourdes ordered a brownie sundae with all the works. If I didn't already know, I'd say something was bothering her, because while she's a eater in general, she eats tenfold when she's upset. She also ordered a small thing of fries to counteract the sweet overload of the sundae. Jolyon sat on her side of the table, asking occasionally if he could bum a few fries, or dig his spoon into the brownie or the whip cream. He barely touched his own ice cream, especially since he couldn't keep track of the white and orange sprinkles. I ended up eating some of it.

"So, no word yet?" I finally ask, after we beat around the bush for a few minutes.

"Nope," She cuts into a portion of her brownie with her spoon, "Not a single peep. He'll come back eventually. He has to; I've got all his stuff. "

"You think he feels guilty?"

"Please," Lourdes lets out a dry snort, "Simon doesn't have remorse for anything. He always just flips it and makes me feel like it's my fault...or my insecurity, or imagination. I don't know, he's an asshole."

"So, you're done with him?" My eyes scan her face. "For good?"

She stares down at her sundae, pausing in thought. "I...I want to be," Her spoon pokes around, "I want to be done with him and for him to be out of my house and out of my life, but..."

"But what?"

Lourdes exhales and I can see tears pool in her dark circles eyes. She swallows, "I know you never liked him and I know he's a total prick, but...I love him."

I lick the cookie from the corner of my mouth. "But he didn't love you back?"

"He never said it," She shakes her head, forlorn, "I use to think that all the nice things he did for me, all the thoughtful, caring things he said or did, was unspoken proof, but turns out; he's just a charming fucking sociopath."

I smile very faintly with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Lour."

"Yeah, me, too," She huffs, "I let him drive a wedge between me and people I care about. Do you know how much I compromised to keep him happy? How many times I didn't want to... _have sex_." She whispers those two words, "But did anyway, because he sweet talked me, or made me feel like I had to because I was afraid he'd find someone who would?"

"Mom, can I have a napkin?" Jolyon interrupts, oblivious.

"Here you go," I hand him a napkin from the dispenser, before refocusing to Lourdes, "He said he'd leave you, if you didn't sleep with him?"

"Not in so many words, but he would sometimes nonchalantly say how some of his customers would always flirt with him and make passes and that I was lucky he had me to come home to." She makes a noise of ingratitude. "I had no such luck, apparently."

"Well, then this is all for the best, right?" I set down my ice cream sandwich, "That he's gone and hasn't come back? Good riddance."

Lourdes grows solemn again and her eyes become even glassier. "Yeah."

I look her over, feeling as if maybe I put my foot in my mouth. "Did I say something stupid?"

"No," She says, "You were right about Simon. I'm sorry that I said otherwise."

I grab another napkin, handing it to her when a tear falls. "Here."

She accepts it, blotting her under eyes as they produce more. "Thanks."

"What's wrong, Lourdes?" Jolyon asks her.

"Nothing, bebé." She smiles at him.

"But you're crying."

"I bit my tongue."

"I hate it when that happens."

"Same."

I smile at Jolyon's care for Lourdes. "You're such a good friend, Jol."

"I know."

We both laugh. I take another bite of my melting sandwich. "What are you gonna do about Cleo?"

She rolls her eyes. "That's how I know he'll be back. He's not gonna leave that mutt behind."

"How's she doing without him being there?"

"She's fine," Lourdes sighs, "I thought she'd be restless, but she's actually been a good girl. I don't think I want her to leave."

"No?"

"No," She wiggles her nose, stifling her crying, "Ever since I got back from D.C, she's always by my side. Especially now...she's been sleeping in the bed with me." She wipes under her nose and there's a break in her face. "It's like she knows that I'm unhappy."

"Well, they say dogs are pretty perceptive," My brows knit a little, "Did you say since D.C.?"

She sniffs. "Yeah."

I remember the trip and her crying herself to sleep in my arms. How distraught she was in that moment and how she was clearly bothered the whole time before that.

"Did you and Simon get into an argument before the trip?"

"No," She shakes her head, putting her spoon down, "No, but...never mind."

"No, what is it?"

Lourdes' eyes search my face, before she looks at Jolyon. "Hey, Jol?"

"Yeah?"

"You want a couple quarters for the machine over there?"

"Yeah!"

Lourdes gets into her purse and then clinks four or five quarters into his hand.

"You come right back." I tell him.

"Okay." Jolyon runs over to the big gumball machine that has little plastic balls filled with anything but candy.

I focus back to Lourdes. "So?"

She takes a deep breath and fresh tears surface. She licks her lips. "I had an abortion."

I stare across the table. "What?"

Lourdes brushes the dampness from her eyes. "A week before, I took a pregnancy test and it was positive, so I waited up until three o'clock in fucking morning for Simon to get home to tell him..." Her face winces with heartbreak. "He was probably with that woman, now that I think about it."

"He didn't take it well?"

"He wasn't angry, but he...said that he didn't want kids and I knew that when I met him," Her face scrunches a little again, "Said that he didn't want some mundane life with a screaming, needy little brat and a fat girlfriend, bitching at me about going to the store for diapers."

"Asshole." I curse under my breath.

She wipes a tear away. "So, he convinced me to terminate the pregnancy and...I did," She looks over at me with watery eyes, "I asked if he'd go with me and he said he had to work."

"Fuck," I exhale, reaching for her hand, "I'm sorry, Lourdes."

"He took me to Martha's Vineyard for a few days after we got back from D.C." She scoffs, "As if it made up for it."

"Look, Mom!" Jolyon holds a green and blue slinky in his hand. "I got a slinky."

"Wow," I smile as he sits back down, "That's cool. What else did you get?"

"Stickers and this thing," Jolyon hands me a kazoo, disinterested, "What is it?"

"It's like a whistle," I pocket it, hoping he'll forget about it, so I won't have to listen to him blow on it, "Wipe your face, please."

"Okay."

Lourdes chuckles with a soggy rasp under her breath. She pets Jolyon's head.

My smile fades a little, feeling pity for her. "You could've called me."

She turns her head my way.

"I would've gone with you."

Lourdes smiles a very small smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"You're the only real friend I've had in a long time."

"What about me?" Jolyon looks over.

"Yeah, you, too," She snickers, before letting out an exhale, "Maybe it was for the best." She watches Jolyon play with his slinky, "I don't know if I could raise a baby by myself. I'm not you."

"Trust me, I'm no hero."

She laughs a little, smile settling, "I just wish..." She turns her head from Jolyon, but not directly at me, "I wish he wouldn't have been such a disappointment. Part of me was hoping that he wouldn't have told me that I needed to go to the clinic, or given me the money to get it done. Especially that."

"You wanted to keep it?"

"I don't know," She shrugs, "I mean, maybe. I'm thirty- four years old, I'm done having fun; I want to settle down. I'm ready to be a mother...but, like I said, maybe it was for the best."

I put down my melting sandwich. "You'll make a great mother someday, Lourdes."

"Yeah, if I ever meet anyone else."

"You will."

She chuckles faintly. "Fuck, after Simon, I'm not sure I want to."

I smile. "After Simon, it can only be smooth sailing."

Lourdes laughs, removing one more tear from under eye. "No shit."

"Are you and Simon not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore?" Jolyon asks Lourdes.

"No, bebé, we're not."

"Good."

"Jol," I scold.

"I don't like him," Jolyon tells us, "He's mean to you."

"I know, Jol," Lourdes pecks his cheek, "But he's gone now."

"Good."

Lourdes laughs, blinking towards me. "Where was Negan?"

"What?"

"He was gone for two days last week," She reminds me, "Where was he this time?"

"Oh," I shrug, "Food poisoning."

"Gross."

I take up a fry, dipping it in the ice cream, much in the same way Lourdes had been teaching Jolyon to do. "Yeah."

 **...**

This percentage bullshit is driving me nuts. Every time I enter a grade into an assignment input, it fluctuates the overall grade, so that some students that should be one grade are the next mark below it, because of a point one percent. How the fuck do I curve this thing? I swear, I'm not assigning anything more to my students, because I'm not fucking doing this shit again. It's always the worst at the end of the year. I'm definitely gonna have to stay after school to finish this.

I don't look towards the door that creaks open, too preoccupied. "How's the kid?"

"He's got two band aids on each knee, so he's pretty happy."

"You staying after work?"

"Yes."

"...I ordered a pizza."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, half- cheese."

I glance over at Negan. "You want to have lunch together?"

"I order half-cheese, didn't I?"

My brows furrow a tad confused. "Yesterday, you couldn't be bothered to talk to Jolyon for a minute and now you want to have lunch?"

"That was yesterday," He nearly rolls his eyes, "It's a brand new day."

"Hm," I contemplate, "Did you get the pepper and parmesan packets?"

"They come with the order."

I nod, "Okay."

We go back to his office, where the pizza's at. He doesn't say anything on the way there and neither do I, because of it. There are few gazes in the halls as we go together. I pretend like I don't notice.

When we get in, I'm a little surprised to see that his office looks disheveled. Negan's office isn't typically neat, but it's never this messy. It almost looks like he flipped it upside down and then quickly picked it back up without care.

"Where's the other chair?"

"It broke, so I threw it out." He sits down.

"Oh," I close the door, "How'd it break?"

"What's it matter?"

"It doesn't, I was just curious...But I don't have a place to sit now," I chuckle a little, "Unless this is some ploy to get me to sit on your lap."

Negan shoves some stack of folders aside, revealing an empty space. "You can sit here."

"What a gentleman." I put myself up on the spot.

He opens back the pizza box. "Enjoy."

I watch him lean back in his chair. "Are you gonna eat?"

He shakes his head. "Not hungry."

I take up a slice and two packets of crushed peppers and parmesan. "You didn't have to buy a pizza you aren't gonna eat just to see me."

"Hm." He responds, looking elsewhere at some fixed point.

I bite my pizza. "So, my parents think I should ask Eugene for money."

"Huh."

"I'm not going to, of course," I chew, "I'll be fine. I'm gonna work at Lorelei's for the summer."

"Hm."

I look at him, knitting my brows. "What's wrong?"

His eyes flick to mine. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

"You're not acting fine."

"Well, I am."

"Really? Because-"

"I'm fine," He adamantly retorts, "So leave it alone."

I stare at him and he stares back, so I switch my eyes to the wall. "What? Did you and Lu-"

"I fuckin' wouldn't, Pippa."

My eyes move to his severe, pointed gaze. "Sorry."

Negan sniffs, agitated, and runs a knuckle under his nose. "Did you submit varsity softball for the summer traveling league?"

"...I didn't know that was a thing."

"So, no then."

"Well, how could I, if I didn't know to?"

He shrugs rudely. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

I huff, "I thought you weren't gonna spend the summer here?"

"I'm not, that's why it doesn't matter."

I drop my pizza in the box. "Okay," I get up from the desk, brushing some crumbs off my shorts, " Come talk to me when you're ready to stop being an asshole."

"Where are you going?" He asks with some curtness.

"Back to my classroom."

"Pippa."

"I'm not gonna sit here and be treated like a fly on your nose."

Negan reaches for my arm, exhaling. "Pippa, wait."

I stop when his hand takes my wrist somewhat gently, but I don't look at him.

"Look, just stay and eat. I'll keep my mouth shut, alright?"

I huff. "You invited me."

"Stay," He draws me back, "I'll stop being an asshole."

I look at him. "Doubt it," I touch the side of his face with my free hand, "You're always an asshole."

"I know." He holds the hand that rests against his face.

I sigh through my nose. "But I still love you."

"I know." He says with a sober voice, dropping my other hand, which I use to take the other side of his face as I move to be right in front of him.

"I love you."

Negan lifts his eyes up to mine. His thumb caresses my hand.

I gaze down at him, before I crouch down on my feet, letting my hands softly fall to his lap. He follows my direction with a furrowed look. I let myself resituate to my knees, where I slowly run my hands up and down his legs.

"Pippa." He says my name, before his eyes close at the feel of my hand grazing him over his pants.

I start to undo his belt and zipper when I can see him start to harden beneath.

"Pippa," Negan sighs again, shifting in his chair.

I look up. "Do you want me to stop?"

Negan's search mine from left to right. After a few seconds, he exhales and shakes his head. "No."

With that, I take him out which makes him let out a breath through his nose. I always hate this part of a blowjob, even though I've done it before when regular 'ol sex is involved, but I stroke him nice and slow. I don't know why it feels like an eye-rollingly annoying task when it comes to this, but it just does.

Anyway, when he's fully erect, I put him in my mouth and proceed from there. Negan groans a little, raking his fingers through my hair. I bob my head slowly but steadily, stopping every so often to use my hand.

"Fuck." He drags under his breath, gripping my hair a little rougher.

I look up to see his eyes shut and his head leaning back on the headrest. I continue to move my head up and down, despite hoping he'll pull me up to my feet. Call me whatever you want, but I'd give anything for him to lay me down on his desk and fuck me. Hell, I'd give my left arm for him to crack a joke and kiss my lips. Anything to get back to normal.

Negan pushes my head back and I sit on my heels as he lets out a sudden grunt. I stand up, inspecting my clothes, while he breathes. As he puts himself back in his pants, I carefully straddle him, tucking some hair behind his ear.

"Maybe we can have a part two tomorrow," I smile at him, "Or before I get Jolyon today."

He nods slowly, as if considering it. "Yeah."

I go to kiss him, but he moves his head down a little. My smile grow shy, "Are you gonna be here after work?"

"...Yeah."

"Good, because Jolyon's been wanting to see you."

"Jesus, I took two days off from work."

"Well, we missed you anyway," I chuckle, kissing his forehead, "Jol's been wanting to show you his band aids."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," I put my lips on his cheek and then his neck, "He's been talking about you nonstop."

"Pippa," Negan touches my arm, "I'm not into it."

I sit up, looking down at him. "Oh, okay." I climb off him, a little embarrassed. "Sorry."

"It's fine, I'm just not up for all that kissing crap."

I pick my eyes off the floor. "Okay."

The bell rings, so I literally feel saved by the bell from this awkward moment.

I put some hair behind my ear. "Thanks for lunch..."

"Take the pizza."

"No, that's okay, you can keep it."

"No, I don't want it," Negan blandly insists, "Take it home to the kid."

I quickly snatch up the box and leave. "Thanks."

 **...**

Jolyon practically skips on the way back to my work this afternoon. "He's gonna be there?"

"Yeah, he said he was." I reply, still blushing a little from this afternoon.

"And you're gonna be in your office, because, um, because you have work to do?"

"Yes, I've gotta get some work done."

"Yay!" Jolyon breathlessly says.

"Boy, aren't you a little feelings hurter?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited!" He takes my hand.

I chuckle. "Well, keep in mind that Negan might be a little grumpy today."

"Why?"

"Why indeed?" I exhale.

When we get up to the school, I see Diane walking down the stairs with her purse and her lunch box. When she sees the two of us she smiles and waves. "Goodnight."

"Night," I wave back, "Sorry again for bailing on summer school."

"Oh, don't worry about it," She assures me, "We've got plenty of teachers willing to teach it."

"Hi, Diane."

"Hey, you!" She smiles brightly down at Jolyon. "Long time, no see."

"I'm gonna go play with Negan."

"Oh..." Her smile lessens gradually.

"What?" I ask her.

"Well, Negan, he...left."

"Left?"

"Yeah, about two minutes ago."

I look out into the parking lot and I'll be a motherfucker if his car isn't in his spot. "He said he was gonna stay."

"Oh, well, he came and got his mail right as I was locking up and then left."

"Huh."

"Well," Diana looks me over with a half-arched brow, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Negan went home?" Jolyon tugs lightly on my hand.

"Uh, yeah, baby, he did."

"But you said he was staying."

"I know, Jol, but he must have had to go home."

He hangs his head. "I want to go home, too."

"Well, baby, I..." I exhale at the tear on his cheek, "Alright, we'll go home. I just need to get the work from my classroom."

"Can I call Dad?"

"How about when we get home?"

"Okay." He rasps.

I take my phone out and dial Negan's number. It rings, rings, ring again. Pick up, you fucker.

"Yeah?" He finally answers.

"Hey, I thought you were gonna stay after school?"

"No, I'm going home."

"Yeah, I see that, but you-"

"I didn't give you my word I was fuckin' staying," Negan cuts me off, "I said I might stay."

I smile, incredulous. "No, you didn't, you-"

"Either fucking way, Pip, I'm heading home."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Jolyon's really disappointed. He wanted to see you."

Negan doesn't respond, at least not directly. I hear him make some type of half-sigh, half-curse that almost sounds like "fuck you" before he hangs up.

"Fucking asshole." I throw my phone in my purse.

 **...**

"Well, just start packing all his shit up."

"He doesn't have a suitcase," Lourdes tells me over the phone, "What should I pack it up in?"

"A box." I snap an Oreo in half with my teeth.

"And if I don't have a moving box just lying around?"

"Then fucking toss it all in the driveway." I chew.

She laughs. "Think I should set it on fire?"

"I might."

Lourdes chuckles into what sounds like a glass as she takes a drink of what I assume is wine. "I might wait until he comes back for it."

"Sounds good." I eat the other half of the cookie, while reading this book my sister's been talking my ear off about whenever she calls.

"Hi, sweetheart." Lourdes says to someone on her side.

"Is that Cleo?"

"Yeah, she's watching T.V. with me," Lourdes yawns, " But I think I'm gonna call it a night, though."

"Yeah, me, too."

"Night."

"Night."

"...Love you."

I yawn into a smile. "Love you, too."

"I'll call you in the morning."

"Yep."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

She hangs up a few lingering seconds later.

I look over at Pip, who's got one orange eye open at the end of my bed. "I've gotta a feeling I'm gonna be doing this for awhile."

Lourdes has been calling me morning and night since Sunday, which was only two days ago, but like I told my cat, I think it's gonna be a regular thing until she gets over all the heartbreak. I take the last cookie off my stomach, eating it quicker than the last. I should brush my teeth again, but I don't feel like getting up. I just wash it down with the glass of water I brought with me to take my liver pill and swish it around in my mouth.

As I set the glass down, my phone buzzes. "Who the hell?" I glance at the screen and raise my brows a little. It's a message from Negan.

I open it and it reads; _"You awake?"_

I scoff, texting back. _"What the hell do you want?"_

 _"Sorry for earlier."_

 _"You mean for ditching and then hanging up on me?"_

 _"Yeah."_

I huff again, _"Did something crawl up your ass and die, or something? Because you've been acting like a real dick the past two days."_

He doesn't respond for a few minutes, which probably means Lucille is still up, or else he woke her up. _"I know and I'm sorry."_ He then texts, _"I love you,"_ before I have time to reply.

I exhale, relieved for some reason, though still a little sore. _"I love you, too."_

 _"Are you gonna come to my office tomorrow?"_

 _"Are you gonna be rude to me tomorrow?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Then, yes, I'll come."_

 _"Okay."_

I nervously twiddle my thumbs above the keyboard for a minute. _"Are you staying after school tomorrow?"_

Again, he takes a few minutes to reply, which now makes me realize that it's not because Lucille's awake _. "Yeah, I'm staying."_

Fuck, now I do feel needy. I breathe through my nose. _"Cool."_

 **...**

The metal desk is hard and cold against my back, but that's what I get for wearing a dress with thinner straps. I thought I'd keep my sweater on, but Negan peeled it off me as I was getting up on his desk. It's a total one-eighty from yesterday when he sort of seemed as if he was doing me a favor by letting me go down on him and didn't really seem interested. Today, it's like he's making up for yesterday.

The way he pushed me up against the door when I came in, peppering everywhere but my mouth with hot kisses. Or the way his hands roamed my skin like I was solid gold, pulling up the skirt of my dress as he moved up my thighs and towards my middle and then my breasts. How he let me put my arms around his neck as he embraced me to him.

There wasn't talk, or quipping before we got to this point, but I can ignore that. What I can't ignore is Negan's hands down on both sides of me as he leans over me; bucking, deep and a little rough, with one of my legs loosely wrapped around him. I place my hands on his virile arms, smiling dreamingly up at him when my head isn't arching back, nearly off the desk.

"Oh, Negan," I moan huskily, "Yes!"

Negan picks up the pace; thrusting so that desk makes a thunderous clamor.

My back inclines like a cat's as I feel my breath becoming deep, yet shorter. "Fuck...Oh, god, Ne-!"

My mouth parts, speechless, and my eyes shut tight. I feel his skin under my short nails as I softly sink them in. A few euphoric moments of still feeling his cock, in, out, in, out, I finally exhale with a moan.

Negan makes an abrupt shutter forward, before he pulls out of me and then is still. His breath grazes me as his chest heaves up and down. "Fuck," He says, out of breath.

I breathe into a chuckle. "Damn, you really were sorry."

He cracks a quick, small smile, before he starts to get up. He puts his penis back in his drawers and fixes his belt. I don't know why it's always been appealing for me to see him undo his belt and then later put himself back together, but it's something that waters my roses.

"Help me up, champ," I put out my hand and he takes it, pulling me up, "Thanks."

Negan nods, sitting back in his chair.

I glance down. "You're not gonna leave that for the janitor, right?"

His eyes move under his desk. He grins, still breathless, and chuckles to himself. "Shut the fuck up."

My smile grows. "Maybe you can borrow some Windex or something. It'll be bring my tide in to see you bent under that desk cleaning up your own mess."

His grin remains as he snickers, amused, but he doesn't say anything. Negan's eyes wander down at nothing, but I see a sudden change in them, along with the gradual transition of his smile into a somber line.

I feel my smile follow the leader and I clear my throat, peering down at the floor in thought. "So, I have to finish grades after work."

"Yeah?" He replies, still staring off.

"Yeah," I itch my brow, "Um, so since you're staying, too, can Jol hang out with you?"

Negan meets my eyes that have my shy question in them. His tongue pokes the inside of his mouth as he nods. "Yeah."

"Unless you have your own work, or...have to go home."

"I said I'd watch him."

I bite my lip. "It's not an inconvenience, right?"

Negan groans, frustrated. "If it was, I'd fuckin' say so, Pippa. Goddamn."

"Sor-ry," I fix the strap to my dress, "I just don't want to feel like I'm being needy and...asking you to stay when you want to go."

He gives me the up and down. "Well, don't, because I said I'd stay."

"Does that mean that you want to?"

"Fucking hell," He rolls his eyes, "Yes, I want to fucking stay, Pippa. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I...I want you to stop biting my head off," I tell him earnestly, which draws his eyes back to mine, "As far as I know, I didn't do anything wrong. Did I?"

Negan scans my face, floating down to that unknown site, before he exhales heavily. "No, you didn't."

"Then why are you being such an asshole?"

"Because I..." He trails off for a moment, "I'm dealing with some shit right now and I can't shake it."

"What kind of shit?" I ask, knitting my brows in concern.

"Uh..." Negan blows airs out through his lips, shrugging, "Personal shit."

"Is it Lucille?"

His eyes dart up to mine, piercing my gaze. "What?"

"Is something wrong at home?" I inquire with a lump of fear. "Does she...know?"

Negan looks me over, then turns his head towards the door. "No, she doesn't know about us."

I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh," I let a small, grateful chuckle, "I thought maybe that was why you were acting so strange."

"No, that's not why," He shifts his head back forward, though not at me, "I'd tell you, if it were that."

"I'm glad it isn't that," I look back at him, "But if it isn't that, then what's wrong?"

Negan shrugs his shoulders again. "Nothing."

"If it were nothing, you'd be able to shake it off," I tap my foot on his knee, "You're pretty good at that."

"Yeah, well, some things can't be shook off."

"Like what?"

He peers my way, staring for a moment, as if he's on the cusp of telling me. But he shakes his head. "Nothing."

I would press him more, but I don't think it's a good idea, given his mood. I stand up from the desk, bending over to pull my panties back up around my waist. I smirk when I catch him watching me do so, so I step one leg between both of his and affectionately muss his hair.

"I love you."

"You, too." Negan hoarsely retorts.

I finger comb his hair back into place, hold him to my breast. "It's over."

"What?" His hand takes my elbow softly.

"Between Dwight and I," I explain, "I told him I didn't want to see him anymore; that I was moving on. I ended things for good this time."

He moves his head to look at me.

I look back, breaking a soft, half- humored smile. "Now I'm only your other woman."

Negan's gaze remains locked on mine, though not fully clear to read.

I lean down to kiss him and I do. He doesn't kiss me back. I meet his eyes again. "Kiss me," I gently implore.

Negan extends his neck slightly upward, placing a kiss somewhere between my jaw and cheek, scratching me a little with his stubble.

"On the lips."

He eases back, finding my eyes once more.

I furrow my brows. "Negan?" I say his name with worry.

A sigh escapes his lips very faintly, before he reaches up. Our lips linger in the space just before connection. I could close the gap, but part of me needs to know that he will. He will and he does; his lips gingerly take mine and when I reciprocate the kiss, he impassions a second one, while touching my face.

The bell that ends the lunch period so ends our kiss. Our eyes explore each other's when we finally part ways. "I guess I gotta go."

"Yeah." He barely replies.

"See ya after, okay?"

"Alright." His fingers caress across me as I move past him.

"Jolyon learned how to count to ten," I put my cardigan back on, "So, be prepared to be asked if you wanna hear that more times than he can count."

"Alright."

I turn back before I leave, but what I was going to say is forgotten when I see him sitting there in his chair, unmoved.

 **...**

As soon as the last student of my seventh period class exits the room, I gather up my purse and phone to go fetch Jolyon from daycare. It's a hot one today, so I'm gonna drive my lazy ass down there, instead of walking to avoid the heat and Jolyon's lamenting of the heat. Lourdes meets me where two hallways merge, coming from her classroom.

"Hey."

"Hi," I say, before reading the message my mom sent me earlier, "You heading out?"

"Yeah," She exhales, tired, "My mom wants to have dinner tonight at my house, so I gotta to the store to pick something up."

"Does she know?"

"About Simon?" She huffs, "Yeah, that's why she's coming over."

"You think she'll want to move back in now that he's gone?"

Lourdes shrugs. "Not sure, but I sort of doubt it. She loves it at my cousin's place. And as much as we love each other, I think we both know we can't live together again."

"Oh," I nod as we walk out the front entrance, "Well, I hope you have a good time."

"Me, too," She dryly says, "You going home after you get the baby?"

I look down at my keys, which is why she got that idea. "Oh, no, I'm staying for a while. I'm just gonna drive to Happy Hands."

"Lazy ass." Lourdes chuckles.

I smile, snickering with her. "Shut up, you bit-" I stop when, in the middle of the steps, I see the vacant parking space in the lot.

"What?" Lourdes asks.

I stare, mouth open in complete and total mental disarray. The kind that makes you feel winded, because you don't understand. _I_ don't understand...

"Pip?"

I blink. "Um, sorry, I...was looking for my car" I tell her, scoffing as if I could almost laugh, "But it's there, right in plain sight."

"Brain fart?"

I glance out to the empty place, where Negan's car was parked just this morning. "Totally." Are you fucking kidding me?

* * *

 **And so it begins….**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **WritersBlock2018: Lol, Gilmore Girls may have been in mind when I was thinking about the theater in Southcastle.**

 **CLTex: Yes and good riddance! Simon was obviously not good for Lourdes. Lourdes does seem to be latching on to Pippa now that he's gone...she definitely has some codependency issues. I felt for Pip writing this chapter and this is just the tip of the iceberg.**

 **PruRose: That's okay; it's perfectly fine to not like certain parts or chapters in the story. I don't take offense and can respect your thoughts! The last chapter was supposed to be a little disappointing and Negan's absence was meant to be felt and missed. It sort of reflected Pippa's disappointment of not having or hearing from him for all that time (as well as, the awkward positions she faced with her parents and Simon and Lourdes) only to have who she finally wanted to see dismiss her.**

 **o0aurora0o: I'm happy that you enjoy both my fics! I agree, Pippa's relationships with other characters are important, mostly, especially since she'll eventually have to rely on herself as well as her friends and family as Negan distances himself further from her.**

 **StTudnoBright: Lol, I love that your biggest hoorah about Lourdes and Simon breaking up is that she has the dog. As for the Negan and Jolyon, I don't intend for him to be purposely cruel to Jolyon, though this whole thing will be trying and emotionally hard for Jolyon.**

 **Happycamper: Yes, It is supposed to "suck" when Negan's gone, because it sucks for Pippa and Jolyon, and now the time they spend together is likely going to suck until he finally reveals Lucille's sickness. Right now, he's trying to process it, while also having another women, whom he loves, wanting to be with in the normal manner that they go about. Her "neediness" is somewhat a matter of perspective that's being put on her by him, though she really is just attempting to get back into the swing of things and he doesn't know how to handle it (hence the constant looking away and making eye contact, just to take it away again).**

 **Savioursgirl:I know, I almost want to cry for/with Pippa over all the pain coming. As bad as this sounds, Lucille's illness has arose had a bad time for Pippa, since she did cut things off with Dwight, so that she could strengthen her relationship with Negan. I don't want nothing but for them to go back to taking the piss out of each other, which was why this was so difficult to write.**


	47. Chapter 47

The waiting room of the doctor's office is like a goddamn icebox. The television is playing this dumb infomercial about a makeup brand that's products look just too good to be true and whose hostess is way too excited for the results. Her shrill exclaims makes it difficult to focus on last year's October issue of this lifestyle magazine I'm reading.

I made an appointment today when I got home, because my stomach, or maybe something in my abdomen area, is been really gurgling and painful the last few days. I thought it was just gas, but I took some relief tablets and it was to no avail. My mom told me to call instead of just ignoring it, considering my liver condition and so they squeezed me in as one of the last appointments for the day. Thank god for cancellations. It does sort make me worry, though, considering the advice nurse wanted me to come in right away.

"Mom, how much longer?"

"They'll call my name soon, babe."

"Aw!" Jolyon slumps in his seat. "We're gonna be here forever!"

"We are not."

"Why do we have to be here?"

"Because the doctor wants to check up on me."

"He wants to make sure you're clean?"

"What?"

"Gran told Aunt Audrey on the phone that you're getting clean and listening to your doctor," Jolyon explains, gathering his brows in confusion, "How come your doctor wants to know if your take showers? You don't smell."

"Gran meant clean on the inside," I clarify, nettled that she was talking to Audrey about me, "Dr. Carson wants to make sure I'm healthy."

"Oh, so you don't have to stay at the hospital again like last time?"

"Yep." I turn to the next page.

"And so you won't fall down at Lourdes' house and have to ride in the ambulance?"

My eyes shyly peer over at the couple sneaking glances this way. "Uh, yeah."

"Oh, okay," Jolyon goes back to his shark book, "Well, you should get a sticker, because you are very healthy."

I snicker, "Doctors don't give stickers to adults, Jol, but thanks."

"What do they give you after your check ups then?"

"Prescriptions." I sigh.

"Oh," Jolyon says, flipping a page, "Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Is Negan mad at you?"

I stare at a column of words on the page of the magazine, though I've lost focus of what I'm reading. "No, I don't think so."

"Is he mad at me?"

"No, of course not," I close the magazine in my lap, "Why would you think that?"

"Because he didn't stop when I was trying to talk to him and then I fell," Jolyon looks at his scraped up hands, "And he doesn't want to play catch after school."

"He's... just been really busy, Jol," I exhale, mussing his curls, "He is _not_ mad at you, okay? He's just got a lot on his plate right now."

The door to the back office opens. "Pippa Barnes?"

I set down the magazine. "Come on."

 **...**

"So, you take the antibiotics in the morning and the liver pills at night?"

"Until the prescription is gone," I take the bottle from Lourdes, "Apparently, my liver pills can make me susceptible to stomach bacteria."

"Disgusting," She holds her joint up to her lips, taking a drag, "Why didn't you say you were sick earlier?"

"Because I didn't think anything was actually up," I tell her, "I just thought I had the shits."

Well, that and Negan's odd behavior has had me in knots.

Lourdes guffaws, a little extra giggly from the spliff. "Too much information!"

I laugh with her, taking a bite of my toast. "Well, you asked."

She chuckles before exhaling. "My mom asked me if I was gonna call Simon last night."

I look over at her. "About getting his stuff?"

"Yeah..." She puts the joint up to her mouth again.

"Are you?"

Lourdes shrugs. "I guess I have to, but..."

"But?"

"But I don't want to see him," She gives me an anxious look, "He's a smooth talker."

"Oh," I nod, although as I picture Simon, I know I wouldn't be enticed, "Well, I can come to your house and be with you when he packs his things."

"Thanks," She offers a smile that's still a little uneasy as her eyes trail off, "But what if he wants to take Cleo with him?"

I stare out at the football field. "Um, well, honey, she is his dog."

"Yeah, but I feed her, and we go for walks every night, and she sleeps in my bed."

"I know, but she's still his dog and if he decides to take her, I don't think you'll have much of a choice."

Lourdes huffs through her nose. "She likes me better now anyway."

"You can hide her at my house and say she ran off." I chuckle.

"Yeah?"

My humored smile fades. "I...I was joking."

"Oh," She nods, but she sounds as if she's still scheming, "Yeah, right."

I bite off another piece of my toast. My eyes flicker to the figure I spy coming from the gym building and onto the field. I check my phone. "Three minutes to first bell," I inform Lourdes, "We should get going."

"Yeah, alright," She dabs the joint on the metal bleacher bench, then flicks it, "I gotta go put _Stand and Deliver_ in the overhead T.V."

"You letting the kids watch movies 'til the last day."

"Yeah, I'm behind on grading and all my classes have finished the last chapters in their textbooks, so if they want something new, they'll have to sign up for the next class, next year."

"Same, I just have my classes watching movie adaptations and working on optional extra credit assignments."

"What the fuck's he doing?" Lourdes knits her brows out towards Negan.

I casually look over. "Uh, I don't know...setting up cones."

"For what?"

"Who the hell cares?" I scoff, walking down the steps.

I take a quick peek that way again as she and I start heading towards the school. He sees us, but when I'm sure he's made eye contact, I turn my head forward and keep walking. He doesn't holler, or follow after us, but I didn't really expect him to.

 **...**

The phone rings and rings, making me more nervous by the minute. I never know how to talk to Eugene on the phone, or in person really, without there being a long, awkward pause due to our taciturn relationship, or lack thereof. That, or I get frustrated and snippy with him, but that's usually only when I feel he's calling my parenting into question, which was only ever about my drinking, or he meekly attempts to put his foot down about seeing Jolyon.

I start to feel guilt in the pit of my bacteria riddled stomach for all the times I verbally castrated him in those moments, while also suggesting that he grow a pair in the same gin stenched breath. I can't believe I spoke like that to someone, especially to someone who very rarely deserves to be spoken to that way. I'm not saying Eugene is a precious cherub cheeked saint, but he's a nice enough guy. A good dad to Jolyon.

Fuck, it went to voicemail. That's one thing I will say; he doesn't answer his phone eight times out of ten. I can bet my bottom dollar that he's not busy charming the panties off some woman, so what the hell?

"Uh, hi, Eugene," I say after the beep, "I was just wondering if you got Jol's voicemail from a day or two ago."

There's a knock on my classroom door and the door opens. Guess the fuck who?

"Um, he's been wanting to talk to you about coming to stay with you for two weeks over the summer," I continue, "I was thinking that, if you're agreeable to it, he could fly out for the first and second week of July. I know you wanted him to come out for the whole summer, or even a month, but I just don't think he's old enough to be way from home for that long. I don't know, maybe I'm the one who's not ready, but please call me back when you get the chance...Bye."

I hang up the phone and eye tall, dark, and mercurial with an arched brow that seems to ask, _"Well?"_

"Hey."

"Hey?" I nearly laugh in disbelief. "Get the fuck out."

"Pip, I-"

"Save your breath for your fucking porridge, Negan; I don't want to hear what you have to say."

"About yesterday," He starts to explain anyway, "I-"

"Which yesterday?" I ask him sarcastically. "The last couple days have been sort of all the same ending, so I'm not entirely sure which you mean."

He exhales, half-stifling an eye roll. "Yester-"

"Oh, you're talking about _yesterday_!" I chide on. "When you invited me to have lunch with you, just so that you could fuck against your desk? When you swore you'd stay after school, made me feel like I'm some desperate fucking woman, and then ran off as soon as last bell sounded to avoid me?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off again.

"Well, you can go fuck yourself, Negan...whatever the fuck your last name is, because I'm done with this déjà vu bullshit," I look down at my home brought lunch, "Come talk to me when you're ready to act like a fucking adult."

Negan scowls at me, clearly pissed and out of patience. He runs his tongue along the inside his mouth. "Fine."

As he goes to leave, I add, "Jol thinks you're mad at him."

He stops with his hand on the door. "What did you tell him?"

"What do you think?" I reply, poking at my cottage cheese with baby tomato halves and pepper. "I said you were busy."

"But you told him I wasn't mad at him, right?" He asks, frustrated.

"No, I said you hate having him tag along with you everywhere." I rudely grumble.

"Pippa."

"Of course I told him you weren't mad at him," I look up, "Although, I don't know what your fucking problem is."

"I told you, I've got some shit going on."

"Yeah, what shit?" I ask, "What's going on?"

The annoyed, scowling look in Negan's face and eyes fades.

The anger in me cools, suddenly worried for him. "Negan, you can tell me."

Negan looks down as if thinking about it.

I get up from my desk and walk over to him. "Look, forget what I said; I want to know what's going on with you."

He lets out a sigh as I touch his arm.

"I heard some of my students talking about having gym this morning," I tell him, "They said you were making everyone do drill stations and kids were getting sick in the heat." I push the door to a close. "I know you pride yourself in being a gold medallist in assholery, but what the hell? You could get in trouble for that if it gets back to Avery."

"It wasn't that bad," Negan makes little of it, like usual, "Kids nowadays are a such pussies."

I look at his avoiding eyes, trying to make sense of his aloof and short- fused demeanor. "What if Lucille finds out?"

He huffs, "Lucille..." Negan looks at me and I raise my brows, waiting for him to say whatever he's gonna say, "...I doubt she's gonna bother to send me another fucking letter in the mail when there's two days left of school."

I lower my brows; curious about _how_ he said that. "Well...she'll still give you hell at home."

"I'll take it."

I sigh. "Two days left." I say, melancholy, as it hits me.

"Yep."

"The year went by fast," I pick up my gaze, "But I guess time flies when you're having fun, eh?"

Negan's eyes travel as he gives a small nod. "Yeah..."

"Too bad you backed out of summer school," I add, strolling back to my desk, "I'm afraid we won't get to see each other as much."

"Yeah, well, I-"

"Want to spend the summer with your wife," I turn, leaning against my desk and holding my elbows, "I know, you said that already."

Negan closes his mouth, nodding as he breathes out. "Yeah," He barely mouths.

I shrug my shoulders, sighing. "Well, I'll be at Lorelei's, if you two ever want to eat half price."

He scoffs, "I'm not taking Lu to Lorelei's."

I stare up at him. The way he said it was almost offensive, but definitely hurtful. It sounded pointed and directed at me, more than the diner.

Negan seems to either have read that on my eyes, or heard how it came out, perhaps not meaning to sound so curt. He, for the first time ever, or the first time that I can recall, touches his wedding band, turning it between his thumb and forefinger.

"I meant, because that's where you and I go."

"After AA."

"Yeah."

I bite my lip. "Are you gonna come with me tonight?"

He furrows his brows, obviously having forgotten. "Oh, yeah, that's tonight, huh?"

"Yeah," I look nonchalantly over my shoulder at my cottage cheese, "If you can't, it's fine; I went by myself last week."

"Well, it's just that Lucille's folks are coming into tonight for the weekend, so I-"

"Is that why you're acting like you've got a pinecone up your ass?"

Negan appears to not follow.

"Your in-laws are coming to town?" I chuckle, thinking I've solved it. "God, you made me think it was something serious."

He looks off. "Yeah, that's why."

"Don't scare me like that." I walk over to him, lightly putting my arms around him. My eyes close when I feel his arms close around me. "I thought..." I take a moment to softly inhale his cologne.

"You thought what?"

I exhale, drawing back to look at him with a smile. "Doesn't matter; I was mistaken."

"Mistaken about what?"

"Nothing, it's not important," I place a kiss on his lips, which he reciprocates, "I love you."

Negan's eyes scan my face, up and down. The bell rings and he breathes out. "I gotta head back."

"Okay," I let him slip from my grasp, "So, I guess I won't be seeing you after work, right? Because you gotta go home?"

He pauses as he opens the door. "No, I'm gonna stay for a bit. Not long, but maybe an hour."

"You don't have to for my sake."

"I'm not." He claims, before leaving my classroom.

 **...**

"What should we do for dinner?" I ask my son as we stroll into the store with a cart.

"You said I was eating at Gran's house tonight." He holds onto the cart as we walk.

"I know, but I changed my mind," I get a whiff of the rotisserie chickens the deli department has cooking for sale, "Oh, how about chicken with mash potatoes and peas?"

"I don't like peas."

"Yeah, me neither," I agree, "What about green beans instead?"

"Can we get some bread, too?"

"I think that can be arranged." I only say that because my dad gave me a hundred dollars last Thursday and I've stretched it out.

"Okay." Jolyon says, rather woefully. In fact, this whole time he's been talking, he's sounded sort of down. Come to think of it, he seemed a little quiet the whole ride home.

He could be tired; Negan took him out to the football field after work to help him pick up around the field and to play catch for a little while after, until he had to leave. Jolyon was so excited to see that Negan hadn't left for the day and had tasked him with gathering the cones, while he put the hurdles back on the cart.

I turn down the aisle where I buy snack packs for Jolyon's lunches. "You want to make pudding tonight?" I grab a little box and turn it over for the instructions. "Might be fun to dip your graham cracker bears in."

He shrugs, not looking up.

"Is that a yes, or a no?"

"Yes."

"Alright," I set the box into the front end of the shopping cart, "Are you gonna miss going to Happy Hands everyday?"

"Yeah," Jolyon mumbles, "I won't get to see Hannah."

"Sure you will," I assure him, "We're having her over next Saturday for a sleepover."

"Yeah, but I won't see her everyday."

"Oh, well, it's only for the summer and I'm sure you'll have plenty of play dates."

Jolyon doesn't reply, he just hangs onto the cart as we carry on.

"You okay?"

He nods his head, unconvincingly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing."

I stop the cart. "Are you sure? You look a little sad."

"No."

"...Was Negan nice to you?" I hate to ask.

Jol shrugs again. "Yeah."

"Jolyon," I call his name to get him to look at me, "Tell me the truth, please."

Jolyon's eyes grow big and long like a sad puppy. "He got mad at me."

I knit my brows. "Why?"

"Because I put my glove on the wrong hand," He explains, holding up his left hand "And because I throwed the ball under."

"Underhand?"

"Yeah." He nods, sullen.

I, obviously, become angry. Jolyon puts his glove on the wrong hand and throws underhand all the time. Actually; every single time he starts playing catch. But Negan's never gotten angry with him about it. In fact, I thought he kind of liked when Jolyon made a mistake, because it gave him to opportunity to give pointers, even if they were the same pointers, much in the same way that a father would his child.

"Okay, I'll have a talk with him."

"No, don't!" Jolyon urgently pleads. "He won't want to play anymore!"

"Yes, he will," I grab a box of crackers, "But he's not gonna be a jerk to you."

"No, Mom!" Jolyon's eyes begin to water. "Don't yell at him!"

"I'm not gonna yell," I promise, which is probably going to be a lie, "I'm-"

"If you yell at him, he'll be mean back and-and I won't get to play catch with him for a long time!" Jolyon starts to cry.

"Jol-"

"I don't want him to be mad at us!" He rubs his eye with his fist.

I look around, noticing people in the store giving me that judgmental look that all people give moms in public when their child is not being quiet. Like they never had a kid cry in a store.

I sigh, "Okay, okay; I won't tell him. I won't talk to him about it, okay?"

Jolyon nods, sniffing. "Promise?"

"Pinky Promise." I give him my pinky, which he takes in his.

We go on through the store to finish getting the few things I need to pick up, before we leave. Jolyon's still a little teary, but he doesn't wail or speak the rest of the time. While standing in line, the old lady in front of us shakes her head with a tsk-tsk upon seeing Jolyon's poorly state.

"He needs a good spanking."

My eyes flicker away from the magazines. "Sorry?"

"A good swat on the bottom will teach him to behave in the store." The old woman clarifies, rather boldly.

"Or make him cry even louder," I retort with a scoff, "How many kids do you know stop crying after they've been hit? Mind your own business."

She writes a check for the cashier, because she's that old that she still uses checks, while shaking her head again in a patronizing manner. The cashier gives me a small, apologetic smile at the old bat's unsolicited two cents.

Because people rarely pay with checks, the newer cashier is unfamiliar with how to process it in the machine, which makes the old lady grow impatient. She grumbles about it being "ridiculous," but I'd like to see her do it.

"Mom, that lady's mean," Jolyon whispers not so quietly, "I thought grandmas were supposed to be nice."

That gets the old woman's attention and she looks down at him with a prude brow.

Before I can say anything, someone calls my name behind me. I turn and I smile. "Hi!"

Caroline gets in line behind me with a small hand basket. "How are you, sweetheart?"

I give her a light hug. "I'm...well. How about yourself?"

"I'm doing really well, too," She smiles down at Jolyon, "Hi, honey."

"Hi." Jolyon gives a moody wave.

"Uh-oh, why the long face?"

"Oh, nothing," I tell her with a wry smirk, "He's just an ill-behaved brat in need of a good spanking."

"Not Jolyon," Caroline denies, petting his hanging head, "He's always a good boy."

The old woman harrumphs as she puts her checkbook back in her purse.

Caroline looks her way as she tuts off with her groceries in her cart. "What was that about?"

"She's had no luck luring children to her gingerbread house." I chuckle, which causes Caroline to smile.

"She's a witch?" Jolyon asks, a little fearful.

"Could've fooled me, if she's not," I push our cart to the end of the aisle, "No, she's not really a witch."

"Oh," Jolyon nods, relieved, "Okay."

Caroline laughs as she puts her things on the conveyor belt. "Has your school let out for the summer yet?"

"Tomorrow's the last day."

"Oh, are you looking forward to the summer?"

"Yeah, sort of," I slide my card, "I'm gonna pick up a few shifts at Lorelei's three or four days a week for extra cash."

"Keeping yourself busy?"

"Yeah." That and I'm trying to keep myself and Jolyon afloat.

"That's good."

I wait for her to pay for her six items and we walk to the parking lot together. "So...how are things going for Dwight and Sherry?"

"Well, hopefully, good," She stops with us at our car, "They're gonna start working on fixing their marriage."

I nod my head. "That's good. I hope they're able to work things out."

"Me, too," Caroline smiles at me, "I talked to Dwight."

I glance over, anxious. "Oh?"

"Yes," She holds that kind, maternal smile; "He told me that you invited him over last week."

"Yeah," I close down the trunk, "Jolyon, go get in your seat."

"'Kay!" Jolyon goes around to the left side.

I scratch my elbow. "I, uh...I invited him over and we talked. We agreed to end things for good."

"I know, he told me," Caroline says, "I'm proud of you."

I offer a meek smile. "Well, it was for the best; we had what we had in the past, but it's time to move on."

She touches me endearingly. "I'm glad you two realized that."

"Me, too."

"I love you, Pippa," Caroline soothes my arm, "Nothing will ever change that; you're a terrific girl."

I feel tears ache below my eyes as I brightly smile. "I love you, too."

She gives me a hug, patting my back, before exhaling. "Well, I should head home."

"Yeah, we better get going, too."

"See you around, honey."

"Bye." I sigh, watching her for a second, before I go to get into the car.

So, Dwight and Sherry are gonna be okay. Maybe. That's good; I'm glad to hear it, though my stomach does ache a little at the thought of Dwight telling Sherry about our affair, if you can call it that. Well, that, and if I'm being honest, a little bitterness pricks me to know that they might be alright in the end, while I'm trying to figure out Negan.

 **...**

"God, this is the fucking pits," Lourdes groans loudly from the other side of my desk, "Sometimes I wonder if teaching is worth it when I've got all this fucking grading to do."

"Well, after today, you won't have to worry about it for three months." I laugh, skimming over the stack of extra credit, only looking for the names, so I know who to give the points to. I crumple a paper and toss it in the bin below with the others.

"Tell me about it. Not having to grade for three months is more rejuvenating than six months paid vacation," She knits her brows, "How the hell are you blowing through all that?"

"Easy; if they bothered to do the extra credit, they get full credit."

"Man, why didn't I think of that?" She looks at her stack. "I might do that."

"Aren't those actual assignment?"

"Yeah, but I'm tired!" Lourdes whines, putting her head down on my desk. "I haven't been sleeping well."

I look her over. "Have you called Simon yet?"

She shakes her head. "No."

I twist my mouth to the side. "Well...do whatever you want. They're your students."

"Yeah..." Lourdes sits up, "Fuck it, I'm doing it."

"Okay."

"Alright," She suddenly finds a new energy, "Whatcha doin' for dinner tonight?"

"Sandwiches, I think," I answer, while balling up another paper, "We've got some leftover chicken that'll make some nice sandwiches, but Jol will probably want grilled cheese."

"Why don't we go someplace?" She suggests. "To celebrate the end of grading for the year, or whatever."

"I can't really afford to eat out right now," I think for a minute, "Except at Lorelei's, but that's only because I get a discount."

"We can go there," Lourdes says, "Or, you can come over to my place."

"Well, I...I'll think about it. It'll depend on how Jol's feeling."

"Is he sick?"

"No, but he was a little pouty yesterday," I toss another assignment, "I don't want to drag him around, if he's ready to go home."

"Why was he pouty?"

My eyes flick up to hers. "Uh, I guess Negan got a little short with him yesterday."

"What?" She furrows her brows, instantly protective. "What happened?"

"Jolyon said he got mad that Jolyon had his glove on the wrong hand and that he wasn't throwing correctly."

"Oh, really?" Lourdes scoffs. "You're telling me a four year old isn't playing ball like a pro? Unbelievable."

I smirk. "He's been in a bad mood all week; I just chalked up to that."

"Why's he in a bad mood?"

"His in-laws are in town."

"Oh," Lourdes nods, "Well, tell him to get the fuck over it. He has no right being a dick to Jolyon, just because Lu's parents are dicks to him."

I snicker. "Yeah..."

"What?"

I peer back up. "Oh, nothing."

"Is he being a dick to you, too?"

"Mm," I shrug, "Yeah, but I'm sure he'll be back to his old, mouthy self once the in-laws leave."

Lourdes slowly nods her head. "Yeah."

The two of us turn mostly silent for the remainder of grading. Occasionally, one of us says something obscure and the other acknowledges, before we go back to our work. We finish up within thirty-five minutes, finally done with school work until late August. I feel a little bad, because Negan had messaged me fifteen minutes ago, asking me how much longer and getting a reply that I'd be just five more minutes. I'm also uneasy about it, too.

"So, do you wanna come over?" Lourdes asks, gathering her things.

"Uh, sure, or we can go to Lorelei's if you don't feel like cooking."

"No, I don't mind."

"Okay," I agree, "You go ahead and head home, I just gotta go get Jolyon."

"I'll walk with you." Lourdes follows me towards the back of the school, towards the fields.

As we approach the field, our humored chit chat fades as we see a small figure sitting on the bleachers right next to a big figure. The littler, my son, has his hands over his eyes, while Negan's hand is on his back, looking as if he's trying to comfort him.

Naturally, I start to walk a little faster. "Jolyon!"

Jolyon lifts his head and, upon seeing me, gets up from the bleachers and hurries to the steps. I feel compelled to pick up the pace a little more as he comes off the bleachers running my way. The sun reflects some shiny streams down his face. When we finally reach each other, I bring myself to his level and he hugs me fiercely.

"What's the matter?" I muffle against him, staring out at the bleachers.

"Can we go home now?" He sniffs, trying not to cry.

"Yeah, baby, we can go home," I softly answer, "What's wrong?"

"I just want to go home."

I take his shoulders, setting him before me, so that he can see my face. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," Jolyon digs a knuckle into his eye, "Can we go now?"

"Yes, but tell me what's wrong," My eyes briefly blink to the man coming down from the bleachers, "I want to know."

"It's nothing!" Jolyon wails out loud. "I just want to go home!"

"What happened?" Lourdes asks, having caught up.

I stand up and march over towards the track.

"Pip?"

All I see is red as I quickly come up on Negan, who looks like he's getting ready to explain himself.

"Pippa, I-"

"What the FUCK is your problem?" I yell out in a fury. I stop before I get close enough to hit him, because I really think I could. "You didn't want Jol to think you were mad at him and then you're so tough on him that he cries?"

"I-"

"I don't fucking know what your fucking deal is, but I don't fucking care anymore! How dare you fucking take it out on my son!"

Negan puts his hand up, trying to calm me. "Pippa, I'm-"

"You're sorry?" I scoff hotly. "Fuck you! I'm done with this shit; don't fucking call me."

"Pippa!"

I storm away, uninterested in what he has to say. I'm not gonna be his figurative punching bag and neither is my son. I draw the fucking line with Jolyon.

"What is going on?" Lourdes inquires, holding Jolyon in her arms.

"We're leaving," I reply frankly, coming to take him from her, "Come on, Jol."

Jolyon clings to me. "I-I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know," I gently say, situating him in my arms, while keeping my purse from falling off my shoulder, "I know you didn't. Don't cry, baby. It's okay."

Lourdes looks out towards Negan, before helping me with my purse. "Do you wanna just head home?"

"No, we're still coming over." I begin to walk determinately towards the parking lot.

Jolyon continues to sob against me, even after we make it to the car. I don't know what was said, or done, but I'm absolutely livid. Maybe I'm quick to anger when it comes to my kid, but Jolyon doesn't get upset like this often and I can't fathom that is was well- deserved, so I'm pissed.

"Pippa!" Negan exhales aloud, having followed after us in a slower, yet bigger stride. "Pip, wait a minute."

I open the car door and set Jolyon into his booster seat, fastening him in without a word.

"Pip," He's made it to the Jeep, putting his hand on the open door, "Look, I'm sorry."

I shut the car door, heatedly, but with a blank face. "It's not me you owe an apology to."

"I already talked to him," Negan claims with a long face, "But I'll...I'll say it again. Just-"

"Don't call me," I look at him as I open my car door, "Don't text me, don't fucking send me a postcard."

Negan stares back at me with morose eyes.

"I don't want to hear or see you for awhile," I adamantly declare, "Not until you are ready to fucking apologize and fucking mean it, instead of saying sorry and then going right back to fucking treating us like garbage."

Negan's eyes flicker off for a moment, which prompts me to look towards Lourdes. He sighs heavily, opening his mouth, but saying nothing to my pooling eyes.

"Adios, asshole." I bid him farewell, before I get into my car and start it up. I ignore him standing by the spot, as I pull out and drive off out of the parking lot and towards Lourdes' house.

It takes about twenty minutes to get to Lourdes' house, or would if I didn't have a bit of a lead foot, so I sit and wait in the Jeep for her to get home. I guess I should've waited for her to get in her car, but I was angry and hurt.

I roll down the window to let breeze in. From the rearview mirror, I see that Jolyon's gone to sleep, distraught. Poor baby. It gives me time to wipe a few tears of my own from my face.

I don't understand. Last time I saw him, before he turned, we had such a great time. We were at the batting cages, playfully competing for Jolyon's favor. It was so...normal. We quipped back and forth like we always do, making each other laugh. People thought we were a family, instead of just a married man spending time with his other woman and her kid.

And he was so good to Jolyon. That's what fucks me up the most. As much as we get along, we also bicker a lot, especially when I was drinking and screwing around with Dwight, but he never became cross with Jolyon.

I lick my lips, thinking back. I was pretty cruel when I was drinking...and I did take out my frustrations with Dwight on Negan...I shake my head, scoffing. But that doesn't matter now; he can't just treat my boy like he did.

Lourdes finally pulls up, some time after and a tad longer than it should've. She gets out of her car and I halt as I see the colorlessness of her complexion.

I get out of the car. "Hey, sorry I took off like that."

"It's fine, I get it." She mutters, fetching her purse out of her backseat.

"You okay?" I ask her. "He didn't go off on you, did he?"

"Uh, no," She runs a hand under her left eye, "If anything, I went off on him."

I collect Jolyon out of the car, still asleep and we go inside her house. Cleo greets eagerly, wagging her tail and barking in excitement.

"Hey, sweet girl!" Lourdes cheerfully pets her with both hands as she tries to leap up on her. "Did you miss me? Do you want a treat?"

Cleo goes padding off to the kitchen, evidently hearing the keyword.

I lay Jolyon down on Lourdes' couch and then go into the kitchen, where I find her giving Cleo a bone-shaped biscuit. I smile, "I think she really does like you better."

Lourdes chuckles, mussing Cleo's oblong head. "Right? Simon who?" She asks Cleo. "Huh? Who cares if Daddy comes back or not? Not us."

I pull out a barstool and sit at her counter. "Speaking of boy troubles; I'm sorry you had to see all that. I know that Negan isn't your favorite person, given the past, and this was probably the last shit you wanted to be dragged into."

Lourdes sighs, still petting the dog. "Yeah, well, it is Negan after all," She smiles bleakly down her companion, "But give him a break."

I look with puzzled surprise, slowly gathering my brows. "What?"

She shrugs. "I'm not saying you have to put up with his shit, but...when he calls, don't be too hard on him."

I huff through my nose. "He made Jolyon cry. Twice in a two day period and he's been treating me like a punishment if he had died and gone to hell."

"I know, I'm not saying you shouldn't demand he make apologize to the both of you for that, but he is sorry and he..." She trails off, looking back down at Cleo, "He does love you. Both of you."

I stare in complete disbelief, totally dumbfounded at her defense of him.

"Dios ayúdalo."

…

"Wash under your nose, please," I motion under my nose, "You've got some boogies."

Jolyon takes his soft washcloth, dips it in his bathwater, and then runs it along the bottom of his nose.

"Good job."

"And behind my ears." Jolyon cleans his ears with the rag.

"And behind your ears." I confirm.

"Am I done?"

"I don't know, are you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then I'll get your towel," I reach behind me to the towel on the rack, "Alright, stand up."

Jolyon stands up in the bathtub and holds his arms out. I wrap the towel around him, helping him out onto the bathmat.

"What jammies are we putting on tonight?" I ask him, going into his bedroom and opening his drawers.

"I like the shark ones."

"Your Christmas pjs?" I sift through his folded pajamas.

"Yes, please."

I shrug. "Well, I guess you might need a new pair come Christmastime, so better wear 'em while they fit, huh?"

"Yeah," Jolyon blandly agrees, pulling up a clean pair of underwear he got from the second to bottom drawer, "Can I sleep in your room?"

"Are you gonna stink it up?"

"No, I just took a bath."

"Yeah, but you were tooting enough to start a jacuzzi." I pull out the shark pair, smiling at his laughter.

"I won't toot, I promise!" He smiles brightly.

My smile grows warmly and gladly. It's really the first laugh and smile I could get out of him since this afternoon.

"Well, alright then," I toss the pajamas over to him, "Finish getting ready."

Twenty minutes later, after the two of us both got ready for bed separately, except when Jolyon had to brush his teeth, we climb into my bed with a book. Jolyon leans against me as I read to him.

"The end," I close the book after fifteen minutes, "You want me to read it one more time?"

"Mm, no," Jolyon replies, snuggling down into the covers and laying his head on the pillow, "Mom?"

"Yeah?" I lean my elbow on my pillow.

Jolyon stares at the ceiling. "Can Negan still come to our house sometimes? Even though it's summer?"

I look at him for a moment, trying to think of what to say. I sigh, "I don't know, punk."

"He can come over more now, can't he?" He meets my gaze with question. "Because you guys don't have to work."

"Yeah, well, he's not been very nice lately."

"Yeah…"

I brush his curls back. "What happened today?"

Jolyon looks down. "Negan yelled at me."

"About your glove?"

"Yeah, but also other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

He twists his mouth to the side.

"Jol?"

The cat starts to howl out in the hallway, so I get up to go feed him. "I'll be right back."

However, by time I get back, Jolyon's fast asleep. Damn. I exhale, getting back into bed. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. Not just what happened today on the field, but what is going on entirely with Negan that's altered him so much this week. If Lourdes knows something, she didn't tell me this evening at her house. All she said was to go easy on him when he-

My phone buzzes on my nightstand. I look over...it isn't. I pick it up after about a minute or two. It is.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, thanks for reading!**

 **CLTex: Yeah, these two are both at a loss. Pip doesn't know what's going on and Negan can't bring himself to talk about it...at least not to Pippa it would seem.**

 **Jam86: I agree, it's definitely harder for Negan to just tell Pippa about Lucille, most likely because of the active affair. I think she might be tempted to drink again, but hopefully she'll stay strong, even if Negan's being cold.**

 **Izzy: He's gonna open up to her soon, I promise! He's gonna have to, but it's hard because he loves her and doesn't want to hurt her and Jolyon.**

 **Guest: I know, I want nothing more than to write their usual taunting with each other! It feels so weird to write Negan so aloof, because he's usually such a open guy. Lol, yeah SY Negan is def a monster to Nan.**


	48. Chapter 48

When I pull up to Lorelei's, I don't waste any time getting out of the car and taking myself and Jolyon into the diner. I'm not about to sit there in the parking lot like some lovesick fool waiting for my co-adulterer to pull up in his old Mustang, while my hair turns gray. It's hot too out for that and Jolyon's hungry.

Much to my surprise, we didn't have to wait at all. Negan's already sitting in a booth by the window, stirring a spoon in what I later found out was just plain black coffee. He catches sight of us from the window and keeps an eye on us as we open the door to the diner and walk towards him.

Leda and a waitress give me a "hello" and a wave, which I politely return, though I wish they hadn't seen me, because now Leda might let my mother know that she saw me here with a looker. Once I get to the booth, my smile from the greeting starts to fade as I lock eyes with this asshole.

"Hey." He says with a hoarse voice.

I look him over, twice shy. "Hey."

Negan's eyes blink down to Jolyon, who is also cautious. "Hey, kid."

"Hi." Jolyon replies quietly.

I usher Jolyon into the booth, so we won't be in the way of the waitresses. As I sit, my eyes meet his again as we become parallel to one another. I don't like it; there's something clearly wrong behind his penetrating stare, but I can't think of anything except the worst.

"We ready for menus?" The new waitress, Vera, asks as she sets down the placemat and small box of crayons for Jolyon.

"No need," I tell her, "He'll have the chocolate chips pancakes off the kid's menu and I'll have the biscuits and gravy with a side of hash browns."

"Okay, sounds good," Vera writes its down, before glancing over at Negan, "And you, hon?"

"Nothing, thanks."

"You sure?" She asks him.

"Positive."

Vera nods. "You want some coffee, Pip?"

"Yeah, and some water."

"I'll have a milk, please." Jolyon tells her, already going to town on his coloring placemat.

"Alright, I'll have that right out."

"Thanks." I say as she walks towards the counter. My eyes flicker back to Negan.

"I didn't think you'd show." He tells me as he lifts his coffee cup up.

I knit my brows. "You didn't think I'd show?" I scoff, "You called me last night and asked me to meet you here. I said I would."

"Yeah, with attitude," Negan retorts, "Knowing you, you wouldn't show just to give me a taste of my own medicine."

"When have I ever not met you when you asked me to?"

"When you made plans with- "

"I'm gonna stop you there, because it's different now," I wait for Vera to leave from bringing us our drinks, "I'm not seeing him anymore."

Negan raises his brows as his inhales with his cup close to mouth. "I've heard that before."

I stare at him. "It's real this time and I think you know that, so why don't you quit trying to somehow make me out to be the dickhead and say whatever it is you have to fucking say?"

He cracks a smirk, looking down at the table where he sets the mug.

"What?"

"You always come in guns a' blazin,' don't you?" He chuckles.

I huff, crossing my arms, "This isn't funny, Negan. You owe both Jolyon and I an apology."

At that reminder, his smirk humbles as he looks back down, nodding. "Yeah, I know."

I don't say anything in response, I just sit there and wait. He leans forward, putting his elbows on the table.

"I'm sorry for how I treated you the last couple days," He says, looking me in the eye, "I've been a real asshole."

"You're telling me."

He gives me a look, as if to tell me to let the fuck up. He glances over at Jolyon, who gets the hint and lifts his head up from his coloring.

"I'm real sorry, kid," Negan tells him, perhaps more earnestly, "I was too hard on you and I said some shit I should'nt have."

Jolyon peers down. "That's okay."

"Are we cool?"

He nods, picking his gaze up to meet Negan's. "Yeah, we're cool."

"Good." Negan nods, looking at his hands.

I scan his face. "These apologies aren't forced, right?"

"Right."

"You're not forcing yourself to say sorry?"

"No, I'm not."

I still survey him. "And Lourdes didn't put you up to it?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, she didn't. Why do you have to be so damn difficult?"

"Because for the past week, you've apologized about a hundred times and hundred times you treated me and now my son like shit right after."

He goes to retort, but he stops when he sees the waitress.

Vera brings Jol and I's food over. "Dad, you sure don't want anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Negan assures her, paying really no mind.

I unwrap Jolyon's silverware from the napkin to cut his pancakes. "You're not hungry, Dad?"

"Nope."

"We can split mine."

"I'm not hungry," Negan glances briefly out the window, "And even if I was, I'd barely get my fork in with you, Mother."

I smile. "Well, they do make the best biscuits and gravy around."

"Can we share your hash browns?" Jolyon asks.

"Yeah."

"Okay." He takes the fork from me as I hand it to him.

I pick up my silverware. "So, when do the in-laws leave?"

"Monday morning."

"Lucky you," I joke, "Has it been unpleasant?"

"Shitty."

I nod my head as I begin to cut my biscuits. "How's Lucille been?"

I can feel his eyes on me. He exhales, "She's handling it better than me."

"Well, of course, she is," I chuckle, "They're her parents."

"Yeah…"

I look up. "Where does she think you are now?"

"Running a few errands, she sent me on," He answers, "She doesn't want me sitting around the house."

"Wow, you really lucked out," I snort as I stick my fork in my mouth, "How many spouses want you to take off instead of visit with their parents?"

He scoffs mildly, clasping his hands together. "Yeah, no shit."

"How long are you expected to be gone?"

Negan picks his gaze up. "Two or three hours."

…

He rolls off me, taking with him the heat that was starting to be almost unbearable. Like always, it was amazing. I smile as I feel sweat trickle down my forehead and neck. My hand reaches for the box of tissue on my nightstand, so I can clean up his mess from my thighs and tummy.

"Where you going, tiger?" I ask as he sits up in bed.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower, before I go." He says, walking naked to my bathroom.

I get up and follow, since I'm the one who really needs to wash up. "Are you gonna be able to get everything done?"

"What?" He asks with an echo as he turns the water on in the shower.

"Nothing." I shake my head. I step in with him and shut the door behind me. The water's lukewarm, but in this heat, it's perfect. I touch hips and work my way up. "Maybe you should call and say you got a flat tire and have to camp out in a motel for the night."

"You think?"

I smile, snaking my arms around his head. "Yeah, my prices are comparable."

He snickers, touching the small of my back. "Are you calling yourself cheap?"

"Maybe, but I know the quality's superb," I kiss him when he leans down, "I love you."

"I love you, too," He kisses me more tenderly, "I love the both of you."

My smile grows subtly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," He nods rather thoughtfully, "I'm sorry if I made you doubt it."

"All's forgiven," I peck his lips, "Until you do something else to piss me off."

Negan chuckles, but only for a moment. His eyes trail down me. "You're beautiful."

"So, I've been told."

"Shut up, you vapid asshole. I'm being serious."

"I could never imagine you'd kid like that."

Negan laughs, holding me to him. His lips press gently on my wet head. "I gotta head out."

I close my eyes. "Call and make an excuse."

"I can't do that and you know it."

I sigh against him. "I know," I look up, "The other woman comes second."

He closes his mouth, frustrated, as he peers over at the wall. "Don't bring that shit up."

"I wasn't being passive aggressive, or anything," I tell him, "I know how it is."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one who has to feel like the asshole because of it."

"Well, don't," I grab the bar of soap, running it along my body, "It is what it is. If we can make it work, then I'm not complaining."

What I said rings in my head like an alarm, as if to say; " _Do you know what you just said?"_ But I ignore it.

Negan's face grows a tad morose as he stares off.

"Mom?" Jolyon calls out, which means he's woken up from his nap. "Mom?"

I rinse off quickly and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around me. "Yeah, Jol?"

"Your phone is ringing." He hands me it.

"Thank you."

"Is Negan gone?" He inquires as he rubs his eye.

"No, but he's gonna get going pretty soon."

"Aw," Jolyon yawns, "I wish he could spend the night."

I watch him pad out of my room, before I check my phone. Lourdes. Who else? I try to call her back, but she doesn't pick up.

"Who is it?" Negan casually asks.

"Lourdes, but she didn't answer."

He nods, walking over to his clothes on the floor. "Close the door, so the kid won't barge in."

I barefoot it over to the door. "I know I said all was forgiven, but out of curiosity, what did you say to him yesterday that got him so upset?"

Negan pauses for a moment. "Why?"

I shrug, opening my dresser drawer. "Curiosity."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about curiosity." He replies, stepping into his jeans.

I smirk. "You already killed me…one or two times."

Negan can't help but snicker under his breath. "Think your prayers were heard?"

"I was saying them loud enough," I turn, "But seriously; what did you say?"

His humor goes. "I just lost my patience with him. That's all."

"He said you said other things."

"Like what?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, would I?"

Negan sits on the bed to put on his shoes. "Well, I don't know either."

I put my hands on my hips, trying to decide if I believe him or not. I walk over to him, maneuvering myself between his legs. He sits up, putting a hand on my hip.

"Well, whatever it was," I straddle him, taking his face between my hands, "You're sorry for it." I sweetly kiss him. "And Jolyon forgives you, which is the important thing."

"Yeah." Negan pays back the kiss, but lightly pushes my leg down. "I gotta go, Pip."

I step back. "Yeah, okay."

"I'd stay longer, if I could."

"No worries," I say as I finish getting dressed, "Jol and I had plans to go to the movies tonight. Maybe I'll call Lourdes back and see what she wants."

"You know her boyfriend's out of the picture?"

"Yeah, I was there when it happened," I put my hair up in my mirror, "I also was there for their last supper, unfortunately."

Negan furrows his brows.

I roll my eyes. "I spent the night at their house and I overheard them fucking their last fuck. God, I thought I was being clever."

"It's only clever if oral was involved."

"Pretty sure it wasn't, but whatever," I huff, "It was still funny."

"He cheat on her?"

"With an ex- girlfriend, I believe."

"That's rough."

"Yeah," I exhale, "I practically spent the rest of the day with her, literally and figuratively picking up the broken pieces."

"You're a swell friend." Negan runs his hand through his hair.

"You only say that because you receive benefits." I jest, opening the door and padding out.

When I round the corner, I find Jolyon's bedroom door open and his room vacant. The sound coming from the living room gives me an idea of where he's at.

"Whatcha doin', punk?"

"Watching Planet Earth." Jolyon answers with eyes glued to the television as he puts a handful of fish crackers in his mouth.

"You put the DVD in all by yourself?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, look at you; getting your own snack and putting on your own show," I put a fist on my hip, "You're so grown up."

"Yeah."

Pip leaps up on the coffee table, purring in Jolyon's direction. He rubs his head affectionately on Jolyon's.

Jolyon pets the cat. "Do you want a snack, too?" He gets up to go to the kitchen, eagerly accompanied by my four-legged namesake, where the bag of cat treats are in the cupboard.

Negan comes out from the hall, tucking his phone in his back pocket. "Alright, I'm leaving."

"Okay." I accept his goodbye kiss.

"Here."

I glance down at the folded bills he pulled from his wallet. "I know it was good, but you don't have to pay for it."

Negan gives me a look. "Trust me, you're worth more than eighty bucks."

"Oh, I'm flattered."

"Take it." He extends to me.

"For what?"

"To help pay for groceries, or some shit, I don't know. Just take it."

"You don't have to do that," I let him know, "We're fine."

"No, you're not, you tried to pay for yours and Jol's meal with two fives and three dollars in change."

"So? I was getting rid of loose bills."

"Baby, you're living off loose bills," Negan insists on handing it to me, "Stop being so stubborn and just take it."

"Okay, jeez." I tuck the eighty bucks in my shorts pockets. "Thank you."

"Jol, I'm heading out."

"Aw!" Jolyon complains, walking out of the kitchen with slumped shoulders. "Can't you stay longer?"

"Nah, I gotta get the hell out of here," Negan smooths a hand over Jol's head, "Lucille needs me to get some chores done."

"When can we go to the bat cages again?"

"…Soon." Negan answers.

"How soon?" Jolyon naturally inquires.

"I don't know, we'll see."

"Okay."

Negan looks over at me, pecking my lips again. "Alright."

"Alright." I mouth.

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

Negan puts his hand down. "See ya later."

Jolyon high-fives him down low. "Bye, Negan."

Negan opens the door. "I'll call you."

"You better."

He kisses me one last time, before he exits the house.

I hold my elbows and exhales, looking at Jolyon. "Well, should we decide what movie to see?"

"Yeah," Jolyon nods, "Can we sneak snacks in your purse when we go?"

I scoff, laughing. "Is that the best part of going to the movies? Sneaking snacks in?"

"Yeah!"

"You're silly." I turn my head towards the window in the door as I hear an engine rev up as Negan's car pulls out of the driveway. He speeds off down the road.

"You get something with chocolate and I'll get gummy worms and we'll share, okay?"

I look back at Jolyon, smiling. "Okay, sounds like a plan."

"Are we getting popcorn, too?"

"Sure, we'll share a small bag."

"This is gonna be so much fun."

I start to walk away from the door. "Yeah, it will, won't it?"

…

"Wow, your grocery store's so small." Lourdes marvels.

"It's not that small."

"Yes, it is," She chuckles, "Have you seen the one in Southcastle? We've got like three actually."

"There's a bigger one on the other side of town," I tell her, "This one's closer."

"I bet this store doesn't carry all the vegan or organic shit everyone's into nowadays."

"Well, you're wrong and what the hell does that matter? You're not vegan."

"True," She puts a box of double chocolate Oreos in my cart, "So, have you heard from Negan?"

"Uh, yeah a couple days ago," I reply, looking at my list, "The same night that I yelled at him actually."

"Oh, did he apologize?"

"Yeah," I glance over at her, "You didn't put him up to it, right?"

She scoffs, as if offended. "Of course not! I wouldn't interfere."

"Okay…But did you talk to him when I drove off?"

"Yes."

"What'd you talk about?"

She shrugs her shoulder, adjusting her purse strap. "Nothing, I asked if Lucille found out about you and him."

"Why?"

"Well, that's when he started treating me the way he's treating you," She exhales as she grabs a thing of chips, "Except he always smirked and made fun of me when I was angry."

I get a pit in my stomach as I push the cart along. "I already asked him that and he said no."

Lourdes looks me over. "I know."

"What did he say when you asked?"

"He said he was going through some shit."

"Lucille's parents," I scoff, "They've been in town before and it didn't change his mood this badly."

"Yeah, well, this visit is different."

"Different how?"

She looks down.

"Lour?"

"I don't think I should be the one to-" She stops mid sentence when her phone starts to ring. "Hang on."

"Mommy, can we get some band aids?" Jolyon asks on the other side of me.

"Uh, sure."

"Can I pick which ones?"

"You can."

"Cool."

"Hello?" Lourdes answers her phone. "Yes, this is she." She puts a finger up to me and then walks the other way.

"Mom, when is Hannah spending the night?"

"Saturday."

"When's that?"

"Three days." I fish out my phone from my purse.

"Wow, only three?"

"Time flies when you're having fun." I put my phone up to my ear.

"Groceries aren't fun, Mom."

"Really, because I'm having a blast."

The phone rings twice and then goes to voicemail.

"You're a nerd."

"Well, that makes you half a nerd then, doesn't it?" I arch my brow. "Actually, your dad is a _way_ bigger nerd than I am, so that makes you a triple nerd."

Jolyon laughs. "No!"

"I think it does." I chuckle, turning the corner. Right as I do so, my basket collides with another. "Oh, excuse me."

"No problem."

I look over when I recognize the voice. "Hey, D."

"Hey," He says back, seeing me for the first time since we broke it off, "Hey, Jol."

"Hi." Jolyon waves.

I peek down the aisle I just came from for Lourdes, but I don't see her. "So…how are things?"

"Uh, good," Dwight replies, bashfully, "Or getting there."

"That's…good to hear," I touch my arm closest to the end cap freezer full of dairy-free ice cream, "Is Sherry- "

"Working?" He nods, "Yeah, I don't have to hit the road until tomorrow, so I was just getting some things done."

I nod as well at his answer, before looking back. When our eyes meet again, I smile. "I'm just waiting for my friend, Lourdes."

"She's spending the night." Jolyon informs him.

"Oh, sounds like fun."

"It will be," Jolyon confidently predicts, "Lourdes is always fun. But not as fun as Negan."

I avert my eyes at the mentioning of him in front of Dwight. I rub my cold arm, clearing my throat. "She had a bad breakup and we're sort of on support duty."

"Oh." He nods.

"So, you and Sherry are, um, working on things?"

"Yeah, we both agreed to work on our problems and be more honest with each other."

I look at him with mild unease. "So, you told her?"

Dwight licks his lip as he slowly begins to shake his head. "No, not yet."

"Why not?"

"I'm trying to work myself up to doing it," He explains, "It's harder than it looks."

"I bet."

His eyes watch my face. "Are you worried?"

"I'm the other woman, of course I'm worried," I quietly, but abruptly blurt out, "I'm worried of seeing her someplace…Like here, since I can't seem to go to the store without running into one Rollins or the other. I'm afraid of seeing the look on her face when we run into each other afterwards."

"She's not gonna say anything to you, Pip."

"She doesn't have to," I say, "The way she'll look at me will be enough."

"We both were in the wrong, Pippa, not just you," Dwight reminds me, "I'll tell her that."

"Yeah, but she'll forgive you. She won't ever forgive me."

Dwight goes to say something back, but sighs, glancing off. He knows it's true.

"Sorry about that," Lourdes returns, tucking her phone back into her purse, "That was my bank." She looks up. "Oh, hello."

"Hi." Dwight greets back.

Lourdes looks over at me. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, it's been awhile."

I move my purse on my shoulder. "Well, we'll let you get back to it, Dwight."

"Yeah, okay," He gives me a cordial, sympathetic smile, "See ya around."

"See ya."

"Nice seeing you again." Lourdes tells him.

"Likewise. Bye, Jol."

"Bye!"

I push the basket forward, turning down the aisle with the band aids. "Go pick some out Jol."

"Okay."

"You alright?" Lourdes asks me.

At the beeping of my phone, I reach into my purse. It's a text message from Negan.

" _Don't fucking call me at home."_

I sigh through my nose, before dropping it in my bag. "Yeah, just peachy."

…

It's nice out in my backyard as the sun starts to set. Jolyon's playing some sort of game by himself among the trees, while I sit and watch him from my porch and Lourdes naps in the living room. I smile as he makes little action sounds as he runs from one tree to another. I wish I was that free of problems.

Sadly, I'm not. Right now, I feel inconvenient and problematic. Times two. And because I feel that way, I feel also feel angry and used, by and towards others and myself. But I can't shake this loneliness, despite it all.

That encounter with Dwight today really snagged me. I know things had to end between us and, while I'm not having doubts, it breaks my heart to think that in all likelihood we won't be friends after he tells Sherry the truth. And even thought Sherry is kind of two-faced, I still don't want her to look at me with utter betrayal and scorn.

In addition to that upset this afternoon, Lourdes spent the car ride back to the house until I comforted her to sleep on the couch, crying after the call she got from the bank in the store. Apparently, she's late on her mortgage; Simon didn't pay this month's for obvious reasons, nor did he pay last month's. Lourdes said she doesn't know why he lied about paying last month's, but now the bank wants both months paid and Lourdes can't afford it.

She let it all spill that she was falling behind on her mortgage a little before she met Simon and when they entered a relationship, Simon offered to help her out. He put up a few hundred every month, and then half, and then he moved in because it made sense, since he was paying and then gradually, he was paying all her house bills. She's been so torn up since the breakup, that she hadn't even thought about it all.

So now, she's crying and stressing over how she's gonna pay her mortgage on top of utilities.

My phone vibrates the small table next to me. I look over at it, twirling the unlit joint between my fingers. I can't believe he's calling me.

Regardless, I answer. "Don't fucking call me at home."

"If you're pissed about that, you've only got yourself to blame." He claims.

"I thought Lucille would be at work," I observe the joint, "She is the one that pays for the pool."

"Fuck you, I'll take my eighty bucks back."

"Don't you mean her eighty bucks?" I dryly tease. "Are you on speakerphone or something?"

"Yeah, I'm driving."

"Where?"

"I'm getting some stuff for Lucille."

"Oh," I nod, "What'd you call for?"

"Just to call," Negan says to my surprise, "I said I would, which should have been a hint to not fucking call me."

"Yeah, well," I sigh a long breath, "I long to hold you."

"What's with you?"

"Nothing."

"Yes, there is, I can hear it in your voice."

"It's nothing, Negan, I'm just…feeling sorry for myself."

"Where's the kid?"

"Playing over yonder," I point, even though he can't see, "Lourdes is spending the night. I think I might be turning into her new boyfriend."

"Oh, yeah?" Negan replies with casual interest, "You two finally pulled scissors on one another?"

I scoff, "No, but she fell asleep in my arms."

"Hot."

I wipe a stray tear from my face. "No, not really."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." I answer, frustrated.

"Bullshit."

"I'm just tired, Negan," I wave at Jolyon, who's randomly waving at me, "It's tough being behind closed doors all the time."

He scoffs faintly, but not faint enough, in the background. "Yeah, well…that how it's going to be with me and you know that."

"I know," I say as I feel a breathless weight on my chest as I exhale, "I know that, but it doesn't make it any less hard." I look up to try and keep the tears at bay. "It's hard; when you love someone that you can't go places with."

"We go places."

"Yeah, but never forward," I take the lighter out from my pocket and produce fire, "Our time together is always snuffed out."

"I'm married, Pippa."

"Yep."

"…You know I- "

"Fucking relax, I'm not asking, I'm just venting," I huff, still flicking on the lighter, "I let you fuck me, the least you can do is let me grieve once in a while."

He scoffs. "It doesn't have to be that way, you know."

I bleakly chuckle. "So long as we're together, that's all it's ever gonna be. You never have to be alone and I…" The word sticks in my throat. "I always am alone."

"So, go find someone else."

"I thought you didn't want me seeing anyone else," I stick the joint between my lips and start to light it, "Because you're a selfish, domineering prick."

"This coming from a bitch who strong armed her kid's dickless father into signing over full custody to her."

I stand up and start to walk around to the front yard. "Well, I guess we're to mean peas in a shitty ass pod."

"You can sit in the fucking pod all by your lonesome."

"Already done, asshole."

"Jesus, can you ever leave a room empty, or do you always gotta fuckin' start shit?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Go fuck yourself, Pippa," Negan growls, "And by the fucking way, when I said for you to go find someone else, I meant maybe we should stop seeing each other."

I pause my next step. "What?"

"If you aren't happy and you want someone to fucking spend all their time on you, or marry you, then fucking go right ahead."

"…You mean that?"

"No skin off my nuts," He meanly confirms, "In fact, I might fucking benefit from it; not having to deal with your bullshit all the damn time."

I nod my head. "Okay, if that's how you really feel."

"Hell yeah, it is."

I lick my lips. "Okay. Have a good summer."

I hang up the phone. I inhale and breathe out, before I take a drag of my joint, trying to alleviate all the chaos that's accumulating in me. Chaos that has only ever been drown.

I check the clock on my phone. I put out the joint and go back inside to the living room. I sit on the edge of the couch and jostle Lourdes' shoulder.

"Lourdes?"

She sharply inhales, looking up. "Huh? What's wrong?"

"I need you to take me to Barton."

…

Tonight, Jolyon's friend, Hannah, is spending the night for the first time. I had to postpone it because of yet another issue with my AC, but now that I've shelled out another hundred bucks, it's fixed, and the festivities can commence.

Jolyon's spent the night at Hannah's house about half a dozen times throughout the year, but never the other way around. I think it had something to do with my drinking. I was always drinking before, and I think subconsciously I knew it wouldn't be good if I woke up with a hangover the next morning, barely being able to make breakfast for the two of them without dry heaving at the smell of eggs.

Jol was so excited. I think it's always more fun for kids to have guests over than it is to be the guest. He couldn't stop talking and asking about it nonstop for the past week. It's really cute.

"Alright, the fort is all finished."

"Yay!" Both Hannah and Jolyon cheer, before they crawl into the fort I assembled out of blankets and chairs.

"Did we decide if we wanted Chinese, or pizza?"

"Chinese!"

"Got it."

I call and order for delivery and then set out to bake those cookies I told them I would make two hours ago. We made the batter together, which they really enjoyed, but it needed to sit in the freezer for a while, so now I gotta get them in the oven.

While we wait, I put on a movie which becomes background noise as they play.

"Jol, your cat's really weird." Hannah remarks when she sees the leash hanging by the door.

"Yeah, he thinks he's a dog." Jolyon says, which makes them both laugh.

I smile in the kitchen as I place the cookies in the oven and set the timer. My phone buzzes and I know its Lourdes. She's been really down since the house trouble. She's called me drunk a few times since then. I'm surprised she went home.

The doorbell rings. That was fast. I called fifteen minutes ago, and the lady told me it'd be thirty.

"Coming!" I shout out, washing my hands.

The bell rings again.

"Mom, the door!"

"I know," I dry my hands on my dress, "Fucking can't wait a minute for me to wash my goddamn hands."

The bell rings a third time as I grab up my purse.

"Hold your horses!" I yell, before opening the door. "How much do I- '

Before I know what hits me, Negan nearly barges in, putting his hands on my face as he kisses me fervently.

I back up as he comes in, still locked in the kiss and trying not to fumble. I put my hand on his chest, but that's only so I can push him away.

"What the fuck?" I ask, astonished, but mad. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you." He answers, kissing me again.

"Stop it!" I step back. "You said I was a pain in the ass."

"I know, I'm asshole," Negan says, panting slightly, "I shouldn't have said all that shit. I'm sorry."

I roll my eyes, scoffing and folding my arms. "Yeah, right. You're just horny."

"No, Pip, I am sorry," He comes closer, leaning his arm by the arch of the kitchen, "I'm going through some shit and I'm angry because of it and I'm taking it out on you, which is a fucking dick thing to do and I'm sorry." He puts his hand under my chin. "You don't deserve it."

I move my head, stifling hot tears. "Now's not a good time. Jolyon has a friend over."

Negan's eyes move upward as if to look through the kitchen into the living room. He licks his lip, before blinking back down to me. "I can come back."

I arch my brow. "What like tomorrow after she leaves?" I look at him. "Don't bother. Just go the fuck home."

"I meant later tonight," His gravelly voice suggests, "After they've gone to sleep."

I shake my head incredulously, smiling. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Come on, baby, just give me- "

"I'm done giving you anything else from me, Negan," I cut him off, "I almost fell off the wagon because of your little heat of the moment."

Negan's brows knit a little as he scans over my eyes. "You thought about drinking?"

"Yeah, but I had Lourdes take me to Barton. The meeting was over, but Alden offered to counsel me afterwards," I eye him up, "You know, he's quite the looker. It's probably unethical to fuck your sponsor, but it's not like I'm a stickler for rules."

He scoffs, clearly irked. "Like he's interested in you."

"Like he wouldn't be interested me."

Negan looks off, pissed.

"Why don't you go, so I can work on getting on that train?" I finger step his chest and it makes him look down at me. "Or rather getting that train to go through my tunnel."

Footsteps coming around the corner herald the kids. "Negan!"

Negan smiles fondly. "Hey there, kid. What's going on?"

"We're having a sleepover," Jolyon tells him, "What are you doing here?"

He glances at me for a moment. "Well, I was thinking about sleeping over myself and maybe hitting the cages tomorrow."

I huff below my breath, staring daggers at him.

"What do you say?"

"Yeah, I wanna go!" Jolyon answers ecstatically.

"That's my boy," Negan's eyes move to mine, "What say you, Mom?"

I start to shake my head and open my mouth to speak a firm no.

"Mom, can we go?" Jolyon asks me, staring at me in wait for my answer.

I peer over to him without turning my head. "I don't know, baby."

"Please?" He begs, taking my hand. "It'll be fun, like last time."

I look at his big eyes and then at Negan's penetrating pair that also want a definite answer.

"Okay," I sigh, nodding my head, "We can go."

"Yay!" Jolyon cheers.

"Go back and play in the other room, please."

"Okay," Jolyon turns, stopping short, "This is my best friend, Hannah."

"Hi, sweetheart." Negan smiles that smile that can make anyone like him.

Hannah shyly smiles, before running to the other room with Jolyon. "Is that your mom's boyfriend?"

"That's her very good friend." I hear Jolyon clarify.

"Do they have sex?" She innocently inquires.

"Yeah, but they don't have to be married, because they're grown up friends."

"Oh, okay."

Negan snickers and I can't help but do the same, though I'm still mad. "So, that's who explained the birds and bees to him."

I smile faintly, before looking up and losing it. "Go home."

"I told Jolyon I'd take him to the batting cages."

"We'll meet you there."

He inches closer. "Let me stay the night."

"No, you said- "

"I know what I said, and it was wrong," Negan tucks some hair behind my ear, until I move my head again, "I'm sorry for saying it; it wasn't true. And I'm a hell of a lot more sorry, if it made you want to drink again."

I shrug. "I'm the only person responsible for my actions. Alden taught me that."

"You really think I'm buying this shit?"

"I think you don't like me talking about being with another man instead of you."

"Who would?"

"Kinky folks."

Negan chuckles a little. "It is hot to think about, as much as I don't like it."

"Well, I'll give you the deets when I've sealed the deal."

"Shut the fuck up." He laughs, leaning my way.

I halt him with my arm. "I didn't say you could stay."

His eyes search my face as a grin peaks up. "You want me to go?"

"Yes." I blink up to him.

"Truly?"

"Honest to God."

"Fine," He nods his head, trailing his eye down to my lips, "Can I kiss you goodnight?"

I try not to move my lips. "Yeah."

Negan inclines towards me, putting his lips on mine. It's a passionate, potent kiss. The kind that makes your loins ache. I hate the word "loins" but that's what's going on.

I put my hand on his face, letting him deepen it. When he pulls away, I'm essentially breathless. We look at each other, so close in that space right before the archway.

…

I get the kids to bed around eight-thirty. It seemed like an eternity for me, even though he arrived around six forty-five. I felt frantic inside for the whole two hours.

I tiptoe out of the living room, where they sleep in their blanket fort. Negan's in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He cups his hands over his face, before sighing and running them up through his hairs. When he sees me, he straightens up, staring at me.

I close the door behind very gently, before padding over to him. He takes my hand and brings me before him. I caress his hair, sloping behind his ear. He glances up with bedding eyes.

I lift my dress over my head and undo my bra, then my underwear. He stands up and undresses while continuing to look at me. When he's naked, I walk to the side of the bed and pull back the covers to get under them. Negan follows my movement, climbing under the blankets and over my body.

I stare up at him and he stares back, quiet. I slide my leg up, grazing his hip, before I touch his chest. He leans down and kisses me.

We kiss for a few moments, before we part and look over one another again. Negan especially stares and it's the longest seconds of my life that I can recall. I touch his bicep and it seems to pull him out of the trance.

He blinks, then glances down, as well as reaches down. I inhale when I feel him enter me. I breathe out with a little pleasure wisping off my lips.

Negan looks at me again, before he plants another kiss on my lips and begins to thrust. He goes nice and slow and deep. I wrap my arms around me as he lowers his head. His breath is hot on my skin.

I close my eyes, letting out whispered moans as he bucks in and out of me. The sound of his grunts and moans only further my love for him. This is the kind of love that I wanted; the one that fills the loneliness.

"Oh, Negan," I sigh, combing my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, "I love you."

We come within a few minutes of each other. I came twice, but I did feel a little sweet ache between my legs when he seized up and was struck silent for a second, before he had to pull out of me.

He pants heavily, moaning choppily again as another surge arises. He moves off me and I roll to the side to kiss him, which he meets.

"Fuck." He breathlessly curses.

I pull his arm over me. "I love you."

"I love you." He says back, going to lay back.

"No," I put my hand on his arm, bringing myself closer, "Hold me."

Negan wraps his arms around me, kissing my forehead, still trying to catch his breath.

…

I furrow my brows at the stirring in the bed. I open them, and they adjust to the dark. "Negan?"

He's sitting up in the left side of the bed, clothed.

I move myself up, cladding my breasts with the sheets. "Where are you going?"

Negan stops tying his shoe and looks over his shoulder. "I'm gonna head home."

"What? I thought you were staying the night."

"No, I'm going home."

I tuck my hair behind my ear. "But you told Jolyon we'd go to the batting cages."

"I can't," He simply replies, "Make an excuse for me and tell him I'm sorry I had to cancel. I left sixty bucks on the nightstand."

I scoff, used again, "You know what, Negan? Just get the fuck out; take your money, get the fuck out, and don't come back."

He gets a better look at me, before he stands up and exhales. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," I retort with tired tears welling up, "If you were sorry, you wouldn't keep hurting me like this." I roll over in bed. "Just leave. I'll find some way to break it to Jolyon."

"You don't want me to come anymore?"

"No, I don't," I confirm, closing my eyes, "And I mean it this time."

"…Okay," He says after a few seconds, "I guess this is goodbye."

"Yep."

Negan sighs. "I love you, Pippa."

My eyes open as I hear him walk towards the door. "Lourdes was right about you."

He stops.

"She said you would hurt me," I tell him, "That you would say you love me and then you'd hurt me." More tears surface. "I thought I was the exception, but I guess not."

"No."

I sniff. "How could I be?"

"I…I don't know."

I stare at the left side of the dark room. "I was just another flame."

"…Yeah." He quietly agrees.

I furrow my brows. "What is wrong with you?" I rise. "What kind of person does this to someone he says he loves?"

"A shitty person."

"I let you in," I say despairingly, "I let you into my home, my life; I let you around my son, who idolizes you…I showed you the darkest parts of me and you acted like you gave a shit."

Negan looks down. "I did give a shit."

"But not anymore?"

He breathes through his nose. "I do."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"If it's not bullshit then why are you doing this to me?" I demand to know. "Why are you breaking my heart?"

Negan blinks, but doesn't look over. "Because I have a wife, Pippa. I love her more and she comes first."

I huff, though burned. "Since when?"

"Always."

"Bullshit."

"No, she's always come first."

"No, _you_ always come first," I correct him, "No one's more important than Negan. All the women in his life are just bedfellows."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, fuck me for telling the truth," I go to lay back down, "The truths hurts, but so what; you're selfish asshole with a wonderful woman you don't deserve."

I close my eyes that are wet with tears.

"My wife has cancer."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **StTudnoBright: Hm, I don't know why you're getting an ominous feeling about Pippa's liver pills and antibiotics. ;) It may not be wholly a bad thing, but it could be bad...it could also be nothing as well.**

 **Izzy: Lourdes' random defense of Negan could be influence by some unwelcome news she's learned. I'm sure Lourdes is a little hurt deep down that Negan loves Pippa, especially after her breakup, but I think she's moved on from Negan.**

 **Savioursgirl: I know, it's good (and tragic) that Negan's finally gonna spill the beans about Lucille. I think he was just devastated with the news and then had to go to work and remember Pippa and face her. He doesn't know how to react to the terrible situation, so unfortunately Pippa gets the brunt of it, because of his guilt.**

 **Jam86: I love Lucille, too. Even though we know very little about her, I think she's a really interesting character and a great deal stronger than Negan. How the threat of losing her and then losing her shapes Negan is something I could theorize about for hours. She is going to die, obviously, but that doesn't mean Pippa and Negan will be together...**


	49. Chapter 49

I stare at the wall, trying to figure out whether or not I heard him right. I sit up in bed, finding his tall frame in the doorway, one hand placed on it, as if to have some support. His head is lowered, barely glancing this way.

My mouth finally parts. "What?"

Negan's adam's apple moves as he swallows. "Lucille has cancer."

A sudden rise that feels like a _what?_ moves me to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, as I hold the sheets to my naked body. "Cancer?"

He exhales heavily, turning entirely to face me. His face is deep and sorrowful and it strikes me that he's not kidding. His eyes travel away from mine as he opens his mouth, trying to figure out where to begin.

"You know all those migraines she's been having for the last few months?"

"Yes?"

"Well," He looks down, but I see the tears forming, "Turns out she's got brain tumors."

I feel like the wind's been knocked out of me. "What? But last time I saw her she was...laughing and perfectly healthy."

"Yeah, well, you're healthy until you're not," Negan says with a little edge, "She had a seizure in our driveway two weeks ago. That's how we found out."

I make the connection. "Is that when you didn't come to work for two days?"

"Yeah," He says soberly, "The doctors said she's had them for awhile, but they didn't start affecting her until now."

I nod at this information, tucking hair behind my ear. "Okay, so what's the plan? Has she started treatment, or are they going to perform surgery, or what?"

He scoffs."It's stage three, Pippa."

I go quiet.

"They want to start treatment, but they also said it's said there's a strong chance of metastasis kicking in and then it's game over."

My throat clenches. "But...but there's still a chance, right? She could beat it?"

He shrugs his shoulders languidly. "I don't know, Pip."

It becomes harder to gulp down the despair I feel.

"I'm sorry that I've been an asshole to you," He adds sadly, "I know you've heard it a billion times, but I…" Negan pauses, the words jam in his throat as his face begins to break apart. "I'm scared."

I get out of bed, scooping up the long, t-shirt like nightgown I have puddled on the floor. I drop it over my body, before walking over to him. I bring him in my arms and as I do, he embraces me tighter than I think I've ever been held. He sobs.

I wish I knew what I could say, but I don't think there is anything that can be said. What do you say? That you're sorry to hear that? I don't know, I can't imagine that being a remedy to his anguish.

"It's okay." I softly say, even though it's not.

His breathing is short, gasping for air. "I'm gonna lose her."

"No, you're not." I hold his head in the crook of my neck and shoulder, which has forced me to stand on my toes. I try to hold off lament and tears of my own.

"I can't lose her," He cries, "I-I can't live in this fucking world without her."

"Negan, you're not-"

"She's the only person who gets me through," He continues to sob, tears slipping down my neck, "I depend on her, I…" Negan falls aparts. "I love her; I don't want her to die."

"Shh," I soothe, but also out of remembering the hour and that I've got two kids in the living room, "You're not gonna lose her."

"Pippa, I-"

"Negan, listen to me," I set us apart, so he'll look at me, "Lucille is gonna fight this, right?"

Negan looks like a child as he nods with the doleful eyes. "She's going back on Monday."

"So, then stop crying," I tell him, caressing his arm with my thumb, "She's a strong woman, you know that. And she is going to beat this."

He looks off to the side, sniffing. "Don't fucking patronize me, Pip."

"I'm not patronizing you," I retort, serious, "I'm telling you that Lucille is gonna be okay."

Negan walks towards the bed with a tired, sorrowful stride. He sits on the end with a long sigh. "You don't know that."

"Well...you don't know that she's going to die either."

"The doctors said-"

"The doctors wouldn't discuss treatment options, if she didn't have a chance," I cut him off, though with no knowledge if that's true or not, "She's going to be okay."

Negan's face scrunches. "I don't know what to do," His head falls into his hands, "I need her, Pippa. I need her and she can't even stand to be in the same room as me since we got the news."

I put my hand on the dresser to balance myself.

"And I know it's because I'm being selfish," He weeps, "She's the one who's got cancer and all I'm worried about is how I'm supposed to hack it without her."

"It's because she's not dead yet," I rasp, staring at the floor, "You're planning her funeral and she hasn't even started treatment. She's aware of her own mortality, Negan, she doesn't need you constantly reminding her of it."

"I told her about us."

I turn my head. "What?"

Negan's hand covers his eyes as his head hangs low. "When I got home the other day I came here, she asked where I was."

"I thought she sent you to run errands." Now that I say it, I realize it was stupid. He lied.

He scoffs. "Yeah, to get a bag of ice, because the ice maker in our fridge broke. I was gone for three and a half hours."

He said the other day that she expected him to be gone as long, but I don't point it out, because I now know it was lie, too.

I stare in quiet dread. "You told her?"

"It just came out," He breathes out, sniffing again, "She didn't even press me, but I...I felt guilty. She was sitting at home with her folks who were besides themselves after she broke it to 'em and I'm over here, screwing around with you on the side."

It sort of hurts to hear him describe me as being "on the side" without a smart, joking tone behind it, but I know that he didn't mean it towards me in a cruel manner.

"What did she say?"

"She didn't, not at first," He answers, running his hand down his face, "Her parents were there; she waited until they left before she asked questions."

I gulp silently. "And?"

"And what do you fucking think?" Negan looks up. "She asked who and for how long."

My tummy tightens hard. "You told her it was _me_ you were sleeping with?"

Negan's damp eyes gaze over. "She asked."

I scoff anxiously, balling my hand into a fist. "So, you told her?"

"Yes, Pippa, I told her," He confirms somewhat apologetically, "She deserved to know...she always has."

"She deserved not to be cheated on." I retort without thinking. When it echoes in my head, I flick my eyes up to his. "I'm sorry. I-"

"You did mean it," He interrupts, "It's fine."

I lick my lips. "What happened when you told her?"

His eyes recollect down. "She got up from the kitchen table and went to bed. I don't think she cried, she's not really the crying type, but I know this one really hurt."

"Why?"

Negan's face winces with pain. "Because this time I did more than just fuck around on her."

I puzzle my brows.

"This time I spent time with you and your boy," He says, "And I helped you get clean, and babysat for you, and gave you money here and there, and…" Negan sighs, "I put in time and effort. I never went out of my way with the others like I did with you."

"Not even Lourdes?"

"Not even Lourdes."

"Did you love her?" I ask with him, demanding to know the truth.

"I...loved things about her," Negan reveals, trying not to tear up, "But I didn't love her the way I do you."

"Or Lucille?"

"That's different." He says to me and I instantly believe him.

I nod, getting pools in my eyes. "Does she hate me?"

"No, she doesn't hate you," Negan shakes his head with a long exhale, "But she did ask if it was because of Jolyon."

Hearing that puts a wrench in my heart. "She thinks you're playing house because I have a kid?"

"Fuck, Pippa, I am playing house," He replies with a shameful agitation, "But it was never because of her. Never because she couldn't have kids...but I'll admit it felt good having a kid look up to me, or look forward to seeing me."

I wipe a tear off my face. "I feel so...awful."

He scoffs, as if to agree with me.

"I don't see how she can't hate me," I add, "She was so nice to me and Jolyon and I've sleeping with you this whole time."

Negan sniffs. "She's not gonna waste her energy on hating you. She'll just think of you as another Lourdes."

"Thanks."

"I mean, she'll think of you as another woman I screwed behind her back," He dryly explains, "She doesn't hate Lourdes, it's just difficult for her to look at her and know that I said I loved her. It's more about me than you or her."

"Why doesn't she hate you then?"

"I don't know, because she loves me," Negan looks at the back of his hands, "People are like that; they place the anger somewhere else, so they can move on."

I want to argue that neither Lourdes or I broke our wedding vows to her, but I can't and so I don't.

"Where does she think you are now?"

"Here."

I furrow my brows at Negan. "You told her you were coming here?"

"No," Negan examines his fingers, "But where else would I have gone?"

"I don't understand."

"We got into it and I left," He irritably tells me, "Came here. She'll do the math."

"But I thought…" I trail off, trying to recall what I thought.

"You thought if she ever found out, we'd be over?"

"Y-yes."

Negan huffs, "Yeah, well...when I told her about you and I, I promised her I would. Leave you, I mean."

I picture in my head him saying that to her without hesitation and it makes my stomach burn.

"But she said just scoffed and said; 'That's real smart of you; leaving the live one for the one who's dying'."

I turn to look at him. I see a teardrop fall on his weathered hands. "But you are going to leave me."

Negan swallows down his emotions. "I have to," He says as coldly as he can manage, "I love my wife and I've gotta stick by her. Now more than ever."

The burning pain sinks deeper into my belly, making me feel sick. But, I nod my head. "I…" My words get caught as the river rises, "I understand."

He looks my way. "I didn't come here tonight to do this."

"No," I faintly croak, "No, you just came here to...to fuck me, go home, and then never call me again."

"No, I wouldn't have done that," Negan quickly claims, "I...I would've found some way to tell you, if I wasn't now."

"Or, you would've just kept being an asshole, until you started treating me like you did Lourdes and I broke it off with you."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Oh, so I've been getting special treatment?"

"Yeah, because I fuckin' care about you."

"You do it because you care," I lick my lips, "Yikes."

"Come on, Pip, you know what I meant," Negan complains, "I never apologized to Lourdes."

"But you did and have to me, because…I'm special?"

Because I love you," He argues, "And because I worry. I worry you might start drinking again, if I just walk out on you like your little boyfriend did."

I let out a heartbroken laugh. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Pippa," Negan says my name with a serious tone, "I love you and I love your boy." He inhales and exhales. "I didn't want this to happen, alright? I didn't ask for this shit."

"Don't make it about you, Negan," I glance over, "Lucille has cancer, not you."

"No, but…" His eyes begin to fill again, "But I can't get on without her."

I lower my eyes, a little ashamed. "So, this really is goodbye."

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," He stares over at the floor, "I'm sorry, Pippa, but my wife needs me for once and I can't let her down."

"I know." I say, even though it's still clearly him that needs her.

Negan returns to looking at me beside him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I feel his hand touch my face and it makes me shut my eyes as I follow his motion. I open them again when I know we're face to face. My face must look as drained as his does.

Negan's thumb caresses my cheek as he gazes at me. He leans in and plants a sweet, passionate kiss on my lips. I kiss him back, though my body is frozen. When we part, he touches my lips, before swallowing again and standing up.

"Goodbye, Pippa."

"So long." I rasp with a flat indignance.

"Tell Jolyon I'm sorry we couldn't go to the batting cages."

"Okay."

Negan looks me over one last time, before nodding and turning to leave. "Okay."

My eyes dart from the floor to him going. I spring up. "No, wait!"

Negan shifts halfway.

I fight back tears as hard as I can, but they win. "Goodbye! I meant to say goodbye. I'm sorry!"

He mouth moves into a sympathetic line. "I know."

I bite my lip to keep it from quivering. "Goodbye, Negan."

"Goodbye, darlin'," He smiles sadly, "Come lock the door."

"I will," I clear my cheek of a lone tear, "I just...I just need to wait a minute."

He nods, understanding, before he walks out my bedroom door and down the dark hall where he disappears. I listen to the footsteps as they tread through this silent house. The door opens and closes and he's gone.

I hold myself by the elbows and count to three, before I pad forward. I go slow, waiting until I hear the engine of his car and the sound of him driving off. When I reach the door, I look out the little oval window, watching the tail lights fade, until they're gone as he turns down the road that'll get him out of this neighborhood, this town, and back home. I lock the door.

I then carry myself to the living room to check on the kids. It's dark, save for Jolyon's nightlight that I plugged into an outlet in the living room, so they could sleep. They're both sound asleep, not at all disturbed by what just happened. It's strange to know that; it feels like a dream that I just woke up from.

I go back to my bedroom and lay down in my bed. I stare up at the ceiling, thinking, recollecting. It did happen, of course it did. It just happened. I take a deep breath and as I let it out, I also let everything out.

I turn over to my side and cry, curling my legs as I ball the covers in my fist.

 **...**

"Bye," I smile politely, "Drive safe."

"Thanks," Paula smiles more sincerely back, "And thanks for having Hannah over."

"Sure, anytime," I look over my shoulder, "Say bye, Jol."

"Bye, Hannah and Paula." Jolyon says from the table in the kitchen.

I turn towards Paula. "Sorry, he's just tired."

"Oh, he's fine," She waves, "See ya!"

"See ya."

"Bye, Pippa!" Hannah waves like her mom.

"Bye, sweetie." I close the door when they turn their backs.

I then move to look back into the kitchen. Jolyon's sitting there with his eyes blankly staring down at the table, where his untouched breakfast was thirty minutes ago.

I twist my mouth to the side. "You hungry?" I go in. "I can heat up your cinnamon roll for you."

He doesn't answer.

I walk over to the pantry. "Or I could make you a bowl of-"

"I hate Negan!" Jolyon angrily lashes out, before getting up from his chair and running off down the hall, towards his bedroom.

I shut the door with a sigh, following after him. I broke the news to him this morning. Only that Negan had to leave and couldn't take him to the batting cages. I figured I'd wait until after Hannah left to sit him down and tell him the rest.

But, that softer news seemed to hit Jolyon just as hard, because all morning he's been really quiet and removed, up until now.

I lean on the frame of his door, watching him shove his glove and baseball far under his little bed. "We don't use 'hate' towards people, remember?"

"I hate him!" Jolyon growls, pushing a blanket under there as well.

"No, you don't," I exhale, "You're just disappointed is all."

"No, I hate Negan!" Jolyon begins to cry. "He promised we could go."

"I know, baby, but he wouldn't break his promise unless it was really important."

"He's mean!" Jolyon shouts, looking at me, "He doesn't want to be my friend anymore!"

I go to argue, but my throat tightens.

Jol seems to pick up on this, because his scowl breaks as he look up at me. His eyes and mouth start to form a pout as tears build. "Why doesn't he like me anymore?"

"Oh, Jol," I walk into his room, kneeling down to hug him, "Negan loves you."

"Why is he being so mean then?" Jolyon sobs against me.

"He doesn't mean to, baby, he's just going through a really hard thing right now."

"When will it be over?"

I let out a breath, sitting him back on his bed. "Jol, honey...Negan's wife is very sick."

Jolyon blinks and sniffs. "Did she go to the doctor?"

"Yeah, she did and she's gonna have to go back a lot to get better."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Um, she has a disease called cancer and it's serious."

"Will she get better?"

I can't tell my son the truth, which is that I honestly don't know. "Yeah, she's gonna get better, but Negan has to help her get better, so he has to spend all this time with her."

"And then he'll spend time with us when she gets better?"

I bite my lip. "Well, she's gonna be sick for a long time, so I don't know, but he's always gonna be your friend, Jol. Understand?"

Jolyon nods. "Yeah."

I pat his knee. "I know you're sad, punk, but Lucille really needs Negan the most right now."

"Is he gonna come stay with us sometimes?"

"No, baby, he's not."

Jolyon looks at me, trying to grasp it. "Is he not your very good friend anymore?"

I smile wanely. "No, he's not."

"Like Dwight?"

"Yeah, like Dwight."

Jolyon exhales, glancing down. "Okay."

"Don't be sad, babe," I brush a tear from under his eye, "It'll be okay."

"But I'll miss Negan."

"You'll still see him, silly."

"I will?"

"Yeah," I look over to the side, "At my work when school starts again."

"Will I get to hang out with him?"

"Um, well, that will depend on how Lucille's feeling and if he has time."

Jolyon nods, still bummed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

I smile, "You want me to warm up your cinnamon roll?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," I stand up, "I'll…" I pause when I feel a little wobbly and lightheaded. I must have stood up too fast. My stomach feels sick, but I shake it off.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I touch my head, "I just got up too quick."

"Oh," Jolyon pulls up a blanket, "I'm gonna lay here while you get my cinnamon roll."

"You sure?" I ask him. "We can turn on cartoons?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Jol brings his blanket across him, "Can I call dad later?"

"Sure." I say as I walk as smoothly out of his bedroom as possible without blowing chunks.

…

"Thank you. Have a nice day."

"You do the same." The man nods as he heads towards the exit.

I collect the three dollar tip and tuck it into one of my apron pockets. It's been a pretty busy today. The diner always gets a little busier in the summer, but fucking hell. I haven't been off my feet for two seconds since the swing shift started, which sucks, because I'm really not feeling it today.

I've had this gloomy sickness since Negan left last Saturday. I wake up feeling like I could puke my brains out, sometimes I do, and then I just have this drained, lethargic drag on me for the rest of the day. I haven't been able to keep my food down, or even eat for the most part. I sit down with the intention of eating, but then I can't bring myself to it. I'm not sleeping so good either at night.

I know it's heartbreak. It's almost like the one I felt when Dwight and I called it quits all those years ago. Except, I think this one might be a little worse. It feels like something's gnawing on my raw flesh like I'm a steak, while I just shuffle on like the walking dead.

It's not fair. I just ended things with Dwight, so that I could be more devoted to my relationship with Negan...So I could devote more time to my morally wrong, behind closed doors relationship with Negan; a married man. Fuck, I know I must sound like a twat for breaking off one affair to focus on the other, but I don't need fucking flack right now. I know it was wrong, all of it, but goddammit I'm human and a fucked up one at that.

I never wanted to hurt anyone's wife. Hell, I thought if anyone was going to get hurt it was gonna be me. In the beginning, I didn't think anyone was going to get hurt, because I was determined not to love anyone. I was just going to be this cruel woman, who would laugh in the face of any man who thought I wanted him more than he wanted me.

But, who was I kidding? I loved Dwight and desperately wanted him to love me again. And while I was almost who I wanted to be with Negan, I ended up loving him, too. I know I have it in me to be mean and cold, so why couldn't I have been that way? It wouldn't hurt as much now.

God, I fucking love him. I know I never stood a chance against Lucille and I would never want to win, but I loved Negan just as ardently as she does.

"Ready to order?"

"I think we need another minute."

"Okay." I walk away from the booth.

Maybe I'm an idiot. Maybe it's not right to claim that I love Negan just as much as Lucille. She could love him more than me, or in ways I can't know. And how dare I think such a thing? She's his wife, it doesn't matter that I love him. She's not going to leave him, not now that she's sick, and I would never expect that, even if she wasn't. I don't honestly think I could've continued sleeping with Negan, knowing what I know now. I may have slept around with two married men at once, but I'm not a horrible person, especially not that horrible.

"Miss?" The man in the booth flags me down. "We're ready to order."

"Sure," I tread over to the table, "What can I getcha?"

The bell above the door rings as it opens.

I turn my head. "Welcome in!" I see Lourdes with Jolyon by her side. "Oh."

She looks a little breathless, as if she ran all the way here with Jolyon on her back. She's been watching him for me a few days during the week, just so my parents can have a break and I don't have to drag Jolyon out of bed early, so I can make my five a.m. to two shift. She hurriedly waves me over, but I shake my head, indicating that I clearly have a customer.

"Um, are you gonna take our order?"

I look over at the man. "Yeah, sorry, what'll you have?"

"We're both gonna get the Lorelei lunch special."

"Okay," I scribble on my notepad, "Anything else?"

"Yeah," He looks at his wife, "Honey, what was it that you wanted again?"

"Can we get a slice of the pie of the day?" She asks me.

"You got it," I jot it down, "You want it a la mode?"

"Sure."

"Alrighty," I tear off the page with their order, "I'll get that started for you right away."

"Thank you."

I stick the order up on the clip for the cook, before averting my attention back to Lourdes and my son. I go over to the booth by the door, where they sat.

"What's up?"

"Sit down," Lourdes tells me, "I have something to tell you."

"I can't," I say to her, "I have another fifteen minutes 'til my shift ends."

"Clock out early."

"It's fifteen minutes, Lour."

She groans, rolling her eyes. "Fine, hurry up."

"I can't speed up time," I look over at Jolyon, "You want something to eat while you wait for me, punk?"

"Can I have a cookie?"

"For the billionth time, we don't have cookies here."

"Well, you should," He retorts, "You would sell a lot of them."

"To who? You?"

"Yeah."

I chuckle, "Did you eat lunch already?"

"Yeah, Lourdes made me a fried bologna sandwich."

"Sounds good," I reply, "I'll get you some pecan pie, if you want."

"With ice cream?"

"Of course."

"Okay."

"Make that two," Lourdes says, "Or actually, three."

I look over with a raised brow. "Three?"

"Yeah, one for me, one for Jol, and one for you when you get off work."

"Oh, okay," I turn around, "Coming right up."

I count out my tips fifteen minutes later, when my shift ends. I didn't do as well as I thought I would. I've only got a hundred and five bucks and twenty-five cents after eight hours of work. That couple gave me a dollar twenty-five. How the fuck is that ten percent? I can't buy groceries with a hundred and five dollars and twenty-five fucking cents. Food's fucking expensive.

I guess if I combine it with the money Negan gave me, that'll give me almost two hundred. I didn't want to use that money, but I'm gonna have to. Maybe I can borrow twenty bucks from my folks. That should be enough for Jolyon and I, for the week anyway. My employee discount is really paying off, too.

"How'd you do?"

"I'd have probably done better if I had smiled more." I bitterly slide into the booth next to Jolyon.

"Why should you grow face wrinkles, just so people will feel good about being served?"

"Because people are power hungry narcissist," I blandly reply, "What's up?"

She licks her lips. "I got a call about an hour ago."

"Oh, yeah?" I dig my fork into my pie. "From?"

"From a payphone in North Carolina."

"Do they still have payphones?" I furrow my brows at the pie. "Wait, North Carolina?"

"Yeah." Lourdes nods.

"Who do you know in North Carolina?"

She leans forward. "Simon."

I look up at her serious eyes. "Simon?"

"Yeah, he called me an hour ago and told me he was in North Carolina."

"What's he there for?" I ask, "And why's calling you? It's been almost a month."

"I know, I asked him the same thing and get this," Lourdes lowers her voice a little, "He's hiding out there."

"Hiding out?" I repeat, puzzled. "From who?"

"The cops, who do you think?"

I blink, shaking my head. "Wait, hold on. He's hiding from the police? Why?"

"Because that ex-girlfriend of his called them and tipped them off about his business," She sits back in her seat, holding her arms, "I guess he was driving back to the motel he was staying at and saw all the cop cars, so he drove past the place and saw his room door was wide open and kept going."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah," She scoffs, "They found some pot and pills that he bought off a friend that were, surprise, surprise, stolen. But what he's really in trouble for is the unregistered gun they had found there."

"He owns a gun?"

"Yeah, he said it was for protection, or whatever," Lourdes glances out the window, "His line of work can get dangerous within a snap of your fingers. That's what'd he say, but most of his customers were potheads and soccer moms with oxy addictions; I think he just had one to intimidate people."

I nod my head, setting down my fork, because I'm not hungry. "Why was it unregistered?"

"Because he's not allowed to have one," Lourdes exhales, as if she can't believe she was ever involved with him, "He spent eight months in prison a few years back and because of that, he's not allowed to own a firearm."

"Oh, so he's definitely in deep shit."

"Yeah."

I briefly glance over at Jolyon, who's occupied. "So, why'd he call you?"

"Because he wanted to see if I was taking care of the dog," Lourdes answers with a eye roll, "And to ask me to send the money he's got stored in my garage to him."

"There's money in your garage?"

"Yeah, I forgot about it, until now but he's got about three thousand in a paint can."

My eyes widen. If I had been eating, I think I would've choked. "Did you say three thousand dollars?"

"Yeah," She nods her head, "But I told him I wasn't going to. If wants it so bad, he can come get it himself. I'm not going to get involved in his shit."

I stare, still thinking about what that money must look like all together. I don't normally think so greedily, but I am a little strapped at the moment. "Is he gonna come and get it?"

"Hell, no," She snorts, "He's not gonna step foot back here for a while. I looked online and he's got a warrant out for his arrest. I'm surprised the police haven't been by myself place looking for him."

"Yeah…" I agree, "So, are you gonna use the money to pay some of your mortgage?"

Lourdes' faint humor goes. "No, what's the point? I'm gonna lose my house in the next two or three months anyway. The bank's already starting the foreclosure process."

"But you haven't had a chance to catch up," I scoff, "They have to give you a chance."

"Actually, they don't, Pip," Lourdes says sadly, "I'm behind two months and by the fifteenth, it'll be three. They know I can't afford to make payments."

"Well...what are you going to do?"

She shrugs. "I guess I'll have to find an apartment, or someplace. My mom said I could come stay with her and my cousin, but that place isn't big enough for three adult women."

I nod, feeling sympathy for her. I know she felt a lot of pride buying that house on her own. I wish there was something I could do, but both hers and I's income won't get her out from under the debt she owes, if she tries to keep it.

"Lourdes, do you want my crust?" Jolyon asks her.

She smiles at him. "Sure," She reaches over and takes the zigzag crust from his plate, "What sort of little freak doesn't like the crust? That's the best part."

"It's too toasty."

"Yeah, that's why it's the best."

"You're the freak." Jolyon replies.

"Hey!" Lourdes laughs.

I laugh, too, nudging him with my elbow. "You be nice to Lourdes, or she's not gonna want to hang out with you anymore."

Jolyon's looks at me, as if to laugh, but he doesn't. Instead, his smile fades and his eyes lower with his head.

"I was just joking, Jol." I tell him, kicking myself for what I said.

Jolyon puts his elbow on the table and rests he cheek in his hand.

I sigh, angry at myself. I look over at Lourdes who looks from Jolyon to me.

"He's pretty tore up about Negan, huh?"

"Yeah."

I told Lourdes about what happened. I had also asked her if she knew about Lucille before I did, since she didn't seem shocked when I told her that she had cancer and because she was oddly gave Negan a reprieve when he made Jolyon cry a few weeks ago. She confirmed that he had confided in her on that same day, after I had left with Jolyon.

She had asked what the hell his problem was and why he was treating Jol and I that way. She also asked if it was because Lucille found out and if he was doing to me what he had done to her. I guess he broke it to her then.

I wanted to be mad at her for not telling me, but she swore to him she wouldn't say anything, under the condition that he would tell me himself. I can respect that, I guess. Besides, she is my only friend.

Lourdes turns her gaze towards Jolyon. "Hey, Jol, how about we go to the movies tomorrow while Mom's working?"

Jolyon shrugs.

"Come on, it'll be so much fun," She goads him, "We can sneak in our own snacks."

Jolyon shifts his head to look at her with knitted brows. "You can go to the movies in the morning?"

"Sure you can," She smiles, "You wanna go?"

He shrugs again. "Yeah."

"Cool."

I smile, tilting my head his way. "I'm so jealous."

"You should come, too."

"Oh, I can't, baby, I have to work tomorrow."

"Is Lourdes gonna spend the night at our house again?"

"Yeah, she is."

"You should live with us," Jolyon tells her, "You sleep at our house a lot."

"I know, I wish," Lourdes says, "It'd be so much fun."

"Why don't you?"

Lourdes and I chuckle at his cute inquiry. But, a thought flickers in my head. "Yeah, why don't you?"

She turns to me. "What?"

I look her in the eye. "Why don't you stay with me and Jol?"

Her brows gather. "What are you talking about?"

"You said you have to look for a place to live, but why not just stay with us?" I elaborate, "I'm barely making ends meet, but if you moved in and we shared the house, we'd both be fine."

She looks down, thinking.

"Look, I'm not saying you have to, or have to answer now, but think about it; we could...share a room, or Jol and I could...or my garage never gets used, if you wanted some privacy. It's looks more like a she-shed anyway."

Lourdes nods, still mulling it over. "I guess it would be easier than having to apartment hunt...and my house is foreclosing."

"It might take stress off of you," I suggest, biting my lip, "Plus, I wouldn't mind the company."

Oh, god. Am I trying to rope Lourdes into living with me, so I won't feel so alone? Pathetic.

Lourdes' eyes peer up at mine. "Okay, I'll think about it."

I nod, a little thrilled. "Okay."

… **Three weeks later…**

Lourdes did move in with Jolyon and I. She came into my room around midnight that night and gave me her answer, before going to bed in the living room. I was instantly relieved. I wouldn't have to scrape the barrel anymore with both of us working together.

And she did end up moving into the garage, which she turned into a bedroom. If it weren't for the garage door, you wouldn't even know it was a garage. She took half of the money Simon had left at her house and used it to renovate the place.

Lourdes used the other half of the money to get caught up on her bills. Neither of us is fretting about owing anything for the mean time, which takes a load off.

Jolyon loves having her and the dog around. Pip and Cleo don't mind each other at at, which is great. We take them for walks every night before bed.

If it weren't for the lingering sting and absence that I feel, everything would be shaping up to getting back to normal. Jolyon still has his days where I know he misses Negan, but he won't say. He cries a lot and when I ask why, he'll say he doesn't know, but I know it's that.

If it weren't for him, I'd probably go on a bender and just spend my days laying bed with the blinds drawn. But I won't do that this time, so I've got to stay up and living my life.

I haven't heard from Negan since we last saw each other, but I guess I'm not going to. I just wonder how Lucille's doing and hope that she's okay. I also want Negan to be okay, too.

And I want me to be okay. I've been throwing up really bad for awhile. Lourdes has been either holding my hair for me in the mornings, or getting Jolyon ready for the day, while I kneel over the toilet bowl.

"You okay?" She asks me from the doorway of my bathroom.

I give her a thumbs up. "Awesome."

"...I have to leave now, if I want to make it to that place on time to meet my mom."

"Okay." I lurch forward.

"...You want me to take Jolyon?"

"No, it's okay," I pant, with watery eyes, "I'll be done soon. Go enjoy tea with your mom."

"Alright…" She walks out, "See ya later."

"B-" I empty nothing but bile into the toilet. Everything else from the night before is already gone.

"Hey, maybe you should check your pill bottle," Lourdes suddenly comes back, "Maybe this is a negative side effect from your liver pills. You could have more stomach bacteria."

I nod my head, spitting into the water and flushing. I tread over to the sink with a lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub pounding in my head. I wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I look like shit.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, Jol?"

"Lourdes said I can make my own cereal, is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I call back, opening the drawer to my nightstand.

"Do you want cereal, too?" Jolyon asks in the doorway.

"No, honey, my stomach's upset."

"You don't feel well?"

"No, baby, it's not that, my stomach's just sick."

That's the truth. I haven't had a drop to drink, even given the circumstances. I'm sober as a nun and have been since April. Unfortunately, it makes the heartache feel long and winding.

I pick up my pill bottle and inspect the label. I shouldn't have stomach bacteria, I just finished that bottle of antibiotics. My stomach's been a wreck for longer than that. I get up from my bed and go to my trash can in the bathroom. There, I fish out the empty, orange bottle and read the warning labels on the back.

My eyes scan the caution signs, skimming over each, before pausing and going back to one in particular. **Warning: This antibiotic has been known to cause certain birth control to be-** No.

No. That isn't it. I toss the bottle back in the garbage. I've got the flu, or something. I'm greif sick over Negan.

I pad into the kitchen, where Joylon's successfully made himself a bowl of fruit loops. "Hey."

"All better?"

"Pretty much," I wring my hands as I lean on the archway, "Is your cereal good?"

"Yeah."

"Good," I nod my head slowly, "When you're finished, I want you to get in the bath, okay?"

"Okay."

I twist my mouth to the side, peering out the kitchen window at nothing. "I'm gonna go hop in the shower. You can watch cartoons, while you're waiting for your bath."

"Okay, Mom." He says, looking at the back of the cereal box.

"Okay," I mouth, "We're, uh, gonna go to the store in a little while."

Jolyon looks up. "The grocery store?"

"No, just the pharmacy," I wipe my forehead, "Maybe we'll get some popsicles there. It's a hot one today."

"Can I pick which ones?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"I want the ones that taste like root beer!"

"Okay, sounds good." I go to get in the shower.

…

The door opens and closes with a small gust of air for support. "Hey!"

"Hey." I call in a raspy, quiet volume.

"Pip?" Lourdes' footsteps come down the hallway. "Pippa?"

"In here." My words bounce off the tile in my bathroom.

Lourdes comes in and arches her brow. "What are you doing in the bathtub?"

"Thinking."

"Drinking?"

" _Thinking_ , Lourdes."

"Well...how long have you been thinking in here?"

"Oh, just for however long Jolyon's been napping," I inhale and exhale, "My tub's so pretty, I don't use it enough."

Lourdes nods, before her eyes blink over to the sink. Her face drops. "What are those?"

"Exactly what you think they are."

She widens her eyes. "Are you…?"

"Did you know antibiotics can fuck with your birth control pills?" I ask her. "Because I sure as fuck didn't."

Lourdes blinks like a deer in the headlights. "Are you pregnant?"

"Four out of five tests seem to think so." I nod to the four positive pregnancy tests lying in a neat row on the counter.

She looks at them. "What'd the fifth one say?"

"I haven't taken it yet," I tell her, "I've been drinking water to build up enough pee."

"...When do you think you'll be ready to?"

"Now."

"Well, get out of the tub and take it."

"What does it matter? All the others are positive," I chuckle, rubbing my eyes, "The lady at the pharmacy looked at me like I was the town slut for buying all those tests."

"Quit worrying about some bitch cashier and take the test," Lourdes says, nervous, "Maybe all the others are false positives."

"Really?" I raise a brow. "All four?"

"Shut up and do it."

I pick myself up out the dry tub. "Whatever."

Then, I go over to the sink and unbox the fifth and final test. Lourdes stands there, watching like a circus patron.

"Do you mind?"

She looks from the test to me. "What?"

"Get out, so I can take it."

"Oh, por favor," She rolls her eyes, "What are you twelve? Just take the damn thing."

I huff, turning to walk to the toilet. "I don't know why you're being so pushy."

I pull down my yoga pants that I have never once done yoga in and sit on the toilet seat. I lower the stick under me and wait for the anxious stream to flow. I take a deep breath as it hits the test. When I'm done, I clean up, flush, and walk the test over to the paper towel where the other ones lay.

"Two minutes."

Lourdes nods, folding her arms as she rests against the wall. "Negan?"

I exhale, nodding like a child. "It would have to be his...I stopped sleeping with Dwight too long ago."

"Shit," She replies, "You weren't using protection?"

Now I really feel like a stupid kid, even though Lourdes isn't scolding me. "We were, but…"

"But what?"

"We ran out of condoms and we were in the middle of things and...I'm on the pill, so we just...used that on top of him pulling out."

"Ah, dios mio, he's a fucking health teacher," Lourdes scoffs, "Isn't he supposed to teach kids not to do that?"

"I know, it was stupid."

I refrain from telling her that it happened more than once. That the first time sort of snowballed the other times. Negan started being an asshole and I was tiptoeing around him, if not telling him to fuck off, that neither of us thought to buy more. The sex was sort of planned half-assed.

"It's been two minutes." Lourdes says, peeking over to the side.

I turn halfway and take up the test, holding it between us. "Two blue lines...that means it's positive."

"Oh, my god." Lourdes says under her breath, covering her mouth.

I glance at the two blue lines and then up at her severely panicked eyes. "I'm pregnant."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I know this chapter was supposed to update last week, but I had internet issues and I also went on a mini vacation in the middle of the week, so I was unable to work on it.**

 **If you've read my sequel to Save Yourself, I'm currently working on the second chapter of Believe in Tomorrow, but I am unsure it I will be able to finish by next week, since I have a few midterms to tackle. I'll try my best, but no promises.**

 **CLTex: Yeah, poor Pippa. She lost both love interests and now has a new tidal wave of problems. It's funny that you mention Sherry, because she will find out eventually, and she may not be as indifferent about confronting Pippa as Lucille is.**

 **Happycamper: Lol, if that ending was killing you, I'm sorry you'll have to wait to find out what happens next after this one! I think Negan wanted to tell Pippa about Lucille, but in telling her, he knew it'd mean they couldn't be together anymore and so he tried to hold out, even though it wasn't right and he was an ass.**

 **Kara315: I feel for Lucille, too, even though she is a minor character. I think Pip and Negan's affair ending under these circumstances for sure reawakens the reality of both Negan and Pippa. We love them ( at least I love my OC, lol) and they're not bad people (not yet anyway) but they're affair, no matter how much they love each other, is a bad thing they've done and they can't control who it hurts.**

 **StTudnoBright: I know, I felt for Jolyon the most! He's gonna need some time to heal, poor baby. And this pregnancy isn't going to be easy for him, when Pippa gets around to telling him.**

 **Jam86: Lol, sadly he did let her in, but it still broke her heart and crushed Jolyon. We knew it was coming, unfortunately.**

 **Izzy: Thank for your concern, but I am all right! I just had technical difficulties last week. I also just transferred to a university on the quarter system, so I may sometimes miss updates (which pains me to admit) in order to keep up with my school work.**


	50. Chapter 50

The doctor's office is palely lit and smells like latex gloves. My eyes peruse the jars of cotton balls and tongue suppressors, mentally hearing Jolyon beg me to let him dip his hands inside each of them, as if they were filled with candy. I also imagine hearing that times two.

"Oh my god," Lourdes gasps to herself, staring down at the magazine in her hands, "Did you know eight out of ten mothers last year were single?"

"Really?"

"No," She shakes her head, "But blue whale calves weigh two tons when they're born."

"Bitch," I scoff, "What sort of magazine is that?"

"Nat Geo," Lourdes flips the page, "Be glad you're not a whale. Jesus."

"Shut up."

She laughs in her chair.

"Can I sit there?"

"No, the nurse said for you to sit _there_."

I shift, crinkling the parchment paper under my ass. "I feel like a child."

"Well, the nurse said for you to sit there, so…"

"You could just go sit in the waiting room."

"You asked me to come in with you."

"Yeah, well, I- "

I pause at the polite rap on the door, following it's opening. "Hello."

"Hi." I smile meekly.

The doctor opens the folder. "Well, the results came back, and it looks like your gut feeling was correct. You are pregnant."

"Oh, wow," I feign mild shock, "I guess it was a good thing I came in."

Lourdes rolls her eyes, because the doctor can't see her. I may have lied and said the tests were coming up negative, hence why I wanted to come in for an exam, which turned out to be virtually the same thing I did at home. I said I had a "gut feeling" about it, since I was having similar symptoms that I had during my pregnancy with Jolyon.

"Yeah, good thing," The doctor smiles, "Congratulations."

"Yeah." I reply, a little breathless, putting my hands on my knees.

"How far along is she?" Lourdes asks.

"Well, I'd say about six weeks or so," The doctor answers, "But that's just an estimated guess based on what you've told me about possible conception dates. It's your second child, so you're gonna start to show a little sooner than the first and it looks like you may be poking out a tad."

"Okay." I nod, knowing exactly what she's talking about. My stomach is already starting to develop a curve from the side.

I traced conception back to when Negan and I first stopped using condoms, give or take a few rolls in the hay pile. My symptoms didn't start showing right away when I was pregnant with Jolyon, which might make sense as to why I didn't know about this one sooner.

"I've calculated your due date to be about February second, but, as I'm sure you're aware, two weeks early, or two weeks past is always expected."

"Yeah."

She smiles. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"Uh…No, I think I'm good."

"Alright," She puts her hand out to me, "Again, congratulations. I'll have the receptionist schedule your next appointment."

"Okay, thanks." I shake her hand.

"You're very welcome." She leaves the office.

I bite my lip, gripping the paper on the exam table. "Welp…It's official. I'm pregnant."

"I don't think this made it official, sweetheart, but yeah; you're pregnant."

I take a breath, chuckling as tears fill my eyes. "I…am pregnant."

Lourdes looks me over, concerned. "Yeah."

"This…is fucking wonderful," I put my hands up to my chuckling face, "My life is just one big fucking shit show."

"It'll be okay, Pip."

I sit up. "I'm knocked up and alone. Round three. I should charge admission."

"You're not alone," She closes the magazine in her lap, "You've got Jol…and me. And you're family."

"Oh my god," I cover my mouth, "I completely forgot about them." I comb my finger through the loose strands from my bun that have fallen around my face. "How the hell am I supposed to tell my parents that I'm pregnant?"

"How did you tell them first time?"

"Over the phone," My eyes dart to hers, "I can't do that this time. I live like twenty minutes away."

"Well, they'll support you like they did with Jolyon."

"Eugene wasn't a married man," I point out, "I can't tell them that I got impregnated by a married gym coach."

"So, don't."

"What?"

We both look to the door when someone knocks. We leave the office, book an appointment, and walk to the parking lot.

"What did you mean when you said don't tell them?" I ask her after that bout of silence.

"Don't tell your folks that Negan's married," She says, "Just say that he…dumped you when he found out you were pregnant."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Lourdes unlocks the car. "He did technically dump you."

"Yes, but that was only because of Lucille," I sigh, getting in, "And he didn't dump me. We end things mutually, given the circumstance."

"Right," She starts the car, "So, then what are you gonna tell them?"

"I…I don't know," I shrug my shoulders, truly lost, "It was different the first two times, you know? I was a kid, or…a drunk slut at a teaching conference. This time I was sober and having an affair."

She twists her mouth. "Yeah, well…they're your parents, Pippa. They might be mad at first, but I've seen how much they love Jolyon, so I know that they'll love this baby."

I lean my head into my hand, staring at the red light.

Lourdes looks at me. "…Unless you're not going to keep it."

I blink, and my eyes hurt. Tears form, but I keep them back.

"Are you?"

The car behind us honks, because we've been sitting at a green light. Lourdes drives, not saying anything.

"Yes," I finally answer, "I'm keeping it."

… **Two weeks later…**

"Jolyon, come here, please."

"Just a minute." Jolyon calls back, staring at the T.V. where Jaws is playing. Lourdes' watch, not mine.

I lean against the kitchen counter, feeling my fingers.

Lourdes huffs, as if astounded that I'm gonna actually wait. "Jolyon Christopher Porter, ¡ven aquí ahora mismo!"

"Okay, okay!" Jolyon gets up from the floor by the couch, walking into the kitchen. "Do we live near that beach?"

"No, now siéntate."

Jolyon pulls a chair out and has a seat at the end. "Mom, I'm thirsty."

"Okay, what would you like?"

"Can I have some of your juice?"

"Uh, no, I don't think you'd like it."

"Can I taste?"

I go to the fridge and grab out the Pedialyte I've been drinking to help with the morning sickness. I got so dehydrated when I was pregnant with Jolyon from all the throwing up, so I've learned the second time around to drink this god-awful stuff to keep electrolytes up.

I hand him a capful. "Here."

He takes a swig and makes a face. "Ew, that's gross!"

"Told you so."

"Can I have a juice box?"

"I'll get it." Lourdes opens the fridge.

I sheepishly sit down in the chair next to his. I inspect my fingers, trying to muster up the guts to tell him.

"Thank you." Jolyon tells Lourdes.

"You're welcome," Lourdes walks to the sink, looking over at me, "Pip."

"Yeah." I nod, moving my eyes towards my son, who's already looking at me as he sips his juice through a straw. "Um, Jol? I have something to tell you."

"What?"

I chew my bottom lip. "Uh, well…do you know where babies come from?"

"From ladies' tummies."

I smile. "Yeah."

"Hannah said her mom said that daddies make babies in mommies' tummies when they have sex."

"Oh, wow." Lourdes says from the sink.

"Hannah's mommy is very open about that stuff, but, uh," I clear my throat, "Yeah, that is how it happens for the most part."

"Are you sick?" Jolyon asks me with a little worry in his voice. "You keep throwing up."

"I know, but I- "

"Are you sick like Lucille?"

"No, baby, I'm not sick," I reach out and touch his hand, "Mommy's…pregnant."

He stares at me.

My eyes search his. "Do you…do you know what that means?"

"You have a baby in your tummy."

"Uh, yeah," I nod my head, "I have a baby growing in my tummy."

Jolyon's eyes trail down, even though he can't see my stomach. "You're gonna have a baby?"

"I am."

He continues to stare. "But Hannah said there has to be a daddy to make you get a baby."

I lick my lips, looking down at my hands. "Well, honey, Negan is the daddy."

His brows knit. "But we haven't seen him in a long time."

I would've laughed at him thinking five weeks was a long time, but I feel it, too.

"I know, but, um…Negan and I made this baby before he had to go."

"You wanted a baby?"

"No, we weren't trying to make a baby."

God, why does it sound like this conversation is becoming too adult for my son? I feel icky talking about it.

"It was an accident?"

"Yeah, Jol. It was an accident."

"But how was it an accident?" He presses, innocently confused.

"Because sometimes when grown ups have sex, they accidentally make a baby."

"Oh," Jolyon touches the juice box in front of him, "Okay."

I look at him. "Are you okay with this?"

"Is Negan gonna come to our house?"

"No, babe, remember we talked about this."

"But you're gonna have a baby now."

I glance over at Lourdes briefly. "I know, but Negan still has to take care of Lucille, so he can't come around."

"He won't come to see the baby?"

"No, I don't think so, Jol."

Jolyon looks at the table. "Oh."

"…Are you okay?"

He nods slowly.

I take hold of his hand. "You're gonna be a big brother."

"Yeah…"

I breathe. "It's okay to tell me if you're upset."

He shrugs. "I'm not."

"Okay." I nod, unsure of that.

"Can I go now?"

"Sure, baby."

Jolyon gets up and goes out of the kitchen. Instead of going back to the living room, he turns down the hall to his bedroom.

I take a deep breath. "He's upset."

Lourdes sighs, "He'll come around. All firstborns are a little disappointed at first when they find out they're not gonna be the center of the universe anymore."

"I don't know if it's that," I reply, getting up, "I think it's more about Negan."

Lourdes nods. "Well, like I said; give him time."

I hold my elbows. "Yeah."

She walks to the living room. "Now you just have to tell your parents."

"One step at a time. "

The sound of a car speeding up the road turns both our heads. A halting screech of brakes draws us to the window of the kitchen.

"Who the hell?" Lourdes says below her breath in bewilderment.

"That's…" My stomach drops. "Sherry."

We watch her get out of her car, slamming the door, and storming this way. As she gets to the house, Dwight's truck comes down with the same speed, braking immediately behind Sherry's car.

"Oh fuck."

I head to the door.

"Pip, what are you doing?"

I open the door to Sherry marching up the stairs of my porch. "Sherry, what's- "

Sherry clocks me right in the mouth. "You fucking bitch!"

"Sherry- "I try to talk to her, but she grabs my hair in one hand and hits me with the other.

"You fucking- you whore! You've been sleeping with my husband!" She yells distraughtly. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!"

"Sherry!" Dwight runs over. "Stop!"

"Hey!" Lourdes steps in, trying to pull me away from her. "Stop it!"

Both Sherry and I's hands collide with each other. I'm just trying to defend and block myself from getting hit.

"Sherry!" Dwight yanks her back. "That's enough! Stop!"

"I was nice to you!" She struggles to get free. "I invited you into my home, you were my friend and you fucked my husband behind my back, you pathetic fucking drunk!"

"Sherry!"

"I-" I lick my bloody lip, "I'm sorry."

Sherry points a fierce finger at me. "You stay away from my husband! Stay out of our lives!" She shrugs Dwight off, fixing her hair out her face. "Let go."

She stalks off down the stairs, back to her car.

Dwight looks over at me, panting. "Pippa, I- "

"Dwight!" Sherry shouts his name.

He glances over to her and then back at me, helpless. I want to tell him it's fine, to just go, but I'm honestly speechless.

"I'm sorry," Dwight says, backing away, "I- "

"Dwight!"

He walks down the porch and over to his truck. He looks my way as he opens his car and gets in. Sherry stares daggers at me as she does the same.

"Are you okay?"

I watch as they both pull away and drive down the road. "I'm fine."

"How's the baby?"

My hand touches my stomach. "Fine."

"Let's go inside," Lourdes suggests, touching my elbow, "Clean you up."

I nod, following her in.

"That was wild."

"Mom?" Jolyon's standing in the hall. "What happened?"

"Uh, nothing, honey, I just…tripped outside."

"I heard yelling."

"Oh, yeah, well…. that was Sherry."

"Sherry's here?"

"No, she and Dwight just left."

"Why was she yelling?"

"Jol, not now, bébé."

… **Another two weeks later…**

I sit at the island counter in my parents' kitchen. Today's the day, unfortunately. I can't keep it from them for too much longer, considering that I'm looking more and more pregnant.

I've been wearing loose shirts or dresses, because of the summer, but also because of this. But I can't hide forever, nor can I keep bribing Jolyon not to say anything. I brought Lourdes with me, which isn't unusual nowadays. I swear people think we're involved, which may not be such a bad idea, considering we're both so bad at all our other relationships.

"You want some coffee, Pipsqueak?"

"No, thanks, Dad."

"Jolyon, you wash your hands before you eat."

"Okay, Gran." Jolyon steps up on the stool by the sink.

"Lourdes, you want a cup?"

"Sure, Mr. Barnes."

"Joe."

She smiles. "Joe, sorry."

"Pip, honey, you sure you only want oatmeal?"

"Yeah, my stomach's upset," I try not to gag at the smell of eggs, "Can we open the slider door, or something? That smell is awful."

"What smell?" Mom asks.

"The scrambled eggs. They're making me want to hurl."

"Oh, okay…." Mom goes over to the slider door to open it, all while keeping an eye on me.

I watch her back, leaning against the counter with a sick stomach.

"You aren't…hungover, right?" She mouths the 'hungover' part.

I huff. "No, I am not hungover."

"Okay."

"I'm sober, mother."

"Okay, I believe you."

I'm sober, miraculously, but I've had bad morning sickness that lingers like a hangover until about noon.

"Gran, can I eat outside?"

"Sure, baby."

"Do you want to eat with me?"

Mom kisses Jolyon on the top of the head. "I would be delighted."

"We should all eat outside," Jolyon takes his plate from my dad, "It's beautiful out today."

Mom chuckles. "Alright, then. We'll eat breakfast outside."

My anxiety rises, making me suddenly sit up. "Hey, um, why don't you and Lourdes head out and Gran, Pop, and I will get the orange juice and glasses?"

Lourdes nods, putting her hand on Jol's shoulder. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. Come on, bébé."

I wait for them to go outside to the table. I take a breath. "I need to talk to you guys for a minute."

"What's up, Pipsqueak?"

This is it. The memory of when I told them I was pregnant with Jolyon surfaces into my brain. They were shocked, and the conversation was filled with questions and awkward explanations and pauses, but ultimately ended with my mom being excited to be a grandma again. Considering the facts of this ordeal, I don't think I'm gonna get quite the same results as last time.

"Um…" I hold onto my mug of water, "I went to the doctor's a couple weeks ago and…"

Both my parents suddenly grow looks of concern. "And what?" My dad says.

"And…" I nervously clear my throat, "I'm pregnant."

My parents stare at me from the other side of the counter. No words.

I gulp. "I, uh, I'm about two months along now."

Still nothing, except my mother's faint, breathless gasp.

"The doctor said I'm due the second of February." I add.

"H-how did this happen?" Mom inquires, taken back.

"You have two kids, you know how it goes."

"Pippa." Dad gives me a look.

"No, I meant…when?"

"Mom, that's sort of personal."

She huffs, putting her hand on her chest, while leaning back on the sink. This is going well. "Well…who is the father?"

"…Negan."

"Negan?" She knits her brows. "I thought you said things didn't work between you two."

I look down. Those wounds are obviously still fresh. "Things didn't work out."

"Well, does he know?" She asks. "Did you tell him?"

"No, I haven't told him," My eyes move up to them, "I don't think I can."

"Why not?"

"Well, because it's complicated, that's why."

"Don't you think he has a right to know?"

"My body, my choices." I murmur.

"Does that mean you aren't going to keep it?" She asks.

"If I wasn't going to keep it, I wouldn't be pregnant still," I dryly inform her, "I'm keeping it. That's why I'm telling you."

Mom nods, though I think she's still processing everything. "Well, since you are, why aren't you going to tell Negan?"

I flick my eyes back down. "Because I can't."

"Why not? You told Eugene when you found out about Jolyon," She reminds me, "You weren't even in a relationship with him. That was just a…fling."

"Yeah…well, maybe I've wizened up this time," I lie to her, aloofly, "He doesn't want to be with me and I don't want to be with him. A kid just complicates things and my relationship with Eugene is not exactly functional, so maybe it's best to just to skip all that with this one."

"You and Eugene work things out with Jolyon."

"No, we don't. I tell him when he can see Jolyon and he doesn't argue," I chuckle to keep from crying, "I'm not a nice person to the father of my children, so I'm letting Negan dodge a bullet."

"Pip," Dad says my name in his usual non-judgmental tone, "You need to tell him."

My eyes blur as tears begin to pool. "I can't."

"Whatever happened between the two of you might have hurt, but honey, you can't keep this from him to avoid having to see him again."

"I- "

"I know you liked him a lot," He goes on, "Didn't you?"

My parted lips close and I nod. "Yeah, I did."

"He must have liked you just as much. He helped you get clean and was a good friend to you."

I turn my stubborn head to the right, gazing out at Jolyon and Lourdes out back.

"And a good friend to Jolyon," Dad adds, "Right?"

"Yeah." I croak.

"So, emotions aside, don't you think it's only fair you let him know?" He suggests. "I know you're hurting, I can see that, but Pip, you have to think about what the fair thing to do is here."

"It's not that easy, Dad."

"Nothing ever is, Pipsqueak," He replies, "But he has a right to know."

"You can't hide it forever, sweetheart," Mom chimes in with the same delicacy in her voice, "You work together. He'll find out one way or another."

My face flinches, afflicted. I hadn't thought about that. It slipped my mind. I cover my face with my hands, sobbing. "You don't understand."

"Pippa- "

"He's married!" I cry out.

Both are quiet again. "…What?"

"We've been sleeping together since last fall," I weep, reaching for the roll of paper towels, "He's married to the superintendent."

"You've…you've been seeing a married man?"

"Yes," I shamefully admit, "And…I was seeing Dwight, too."

My parents' eyes grow wider with shock.

"That was a mistake and it ended a while ago, but I was seeing Negan up until a few weeks ago when we broke things off," I tell them, "I know it was wrong. All of it. I'm sorry."

They both continue to look at me. I cry some more as I conclude that they're mentally disowning me.

"I can't tell him about the baby," I sniffle, "His wife was just diagnosed with cancer and it's serious and I…I can't tell him. He needs to focus on Lucille, I can't put this on him now."

"So…you're not going to tell him?" My mom speaks.

"No, I can't. How can I?" I beseech to know. "I…I'll move schools, or something, if I have to. Maybe I can transfer to the middle school, I don't know. All I know is that he can't know…at least not now."

"When?"

"I don't know," I sniff, blotting my eyes and nose with the bunched-up paper towel in my hands, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dad asks.

"For this. For being a constant disappointment," I answer, "For stumbling through life, too drunk or disinterested to function, and for always being such a pain in the ass because of it."

My mom exhales. "Well…you got that right; you are a damn pain in my ass."

I chuckle a raspy, wry chuckle. "Yeah."

"But you're not a disappointment," She tells me, picking up the pitcher of orange juice, "Grab the glasses, won't you?"

My dad and I watch her go outside with the orange juice, acting as if nothing's wrong when Jolyon calls over to her.

"She's upset." I distinguish.

He sighs, walking around to my side of the counter. "Oh, give her a little time. She'll be calling you to everyday to ask how you're feeling like she did the last time before you know it."

I bleakly smile, following his hand that rests on a glass. "How could she say that I'm not a disappointment?"

"Because you're not."

"But how can I not be?" I ask him, looking earnestly into his eyes.

Dad smiles softly at me, before coming closer and putting his arms around me with no verbiage.

I hug him back, closing my eyes. "I loved him."

He pats my shoulder blade comfortingly.

"I love you, Dad."

Dad exhales lightly. "I love you, too, Pipsqueak."

… **.**

"God, where is the summer going?" Lourdes complains. "We'll be back in school before we know what hits us."

"I like school, Lourdes." Jolyon replies

"I would too, if I got to color and nap all day." She huffs, pushing the red cart. "This store really does fill the void, huh? I didn't come here for anything and I'm pretty sure I've got over a hundred dollars in the cart."

"Oh, look, they're having a sale on towels," I point out, crunching popcorn in my mouth, "We could use some new towels."

"What's wrong with the towels we have now?"

"Nothing, but you can never have too many towels." I feel the fabric.

"Don't touch things with your salty fingers!" Lourdes takes my hand off the towel like I'm a child. "And we're fine on towels."

"Whose house is it?"

"The landlord's," She retorts, "But since we both pay rent, shut your chili hole, we're not getting more towels."

"We don't share a bank account." I grumble, browsing as we go down the aisles and eating my popcorn. I've been craving a popcorn for the last couple weeks, luckily the store has a little concession stand at the entrance.

"Mom, you said we were gonna share!" Jolyon gripes, discovering the cup that held a banana- flavored slurpee is empty.

"Oh, sorry, baby," I take the cup and toss it in a nearby garbage, "I'll get you your own when we leave."

Banana slurpees are also a must.

"I'm not sharing with you anymore, if you don't know how to share."

"Hey, your mom is eating for two, so technically she was sharing, just not with you." Lourdes tell Jolyon.

"Well, she didn't say that, she said she would share with me!" Jolyon chimes back grouchily.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of their booster seat."

I chuckle, petting Jolyon's head. "I'll get you your own, okay?"

"Okay." He mumbles, still offended.

I breathe, going back to shopping. Jolyon's still adjusting to the changes and it's made him a little moody lately. He's shown some interest in the baby, remaking how much bigger my tummy's getting and occasionally asking questions, but aside from that, I don't think he's one hundred percent excited.

I get it; he's been an only child for so long and this is a big transition for him. Plus, he still misses Negan and I think he quietly laments that me being pregnant with Negan's baby doesn't change the fact that Negan and I are not getting back together. The family charade has ended, and he feels it.

"Can I help you find anything?"

"Oh, no, we're…" I put a smile on my face. "Oh, hey!"

Diane laughs. "Hi!"

"Hey, Di," Lourdes smiles, "Long time, no see."

"I know!" Diane says, "I haven't talked to you all summer. How have you two been?"

"We're good," Lourdes answers for the both of us, "I don't know if you heard, but I had sold my house."

"You did?" Diane looks surprised.

"Yeah, I sold it." More like the bank sold after it foreclosed on her. "I needed to get out after the breakup. I've been staying with Pip."

"Oh, well, good…" Diane trails off, about the same time her eyes notice my twelve-week belly that's popped sooner than I thought it would. "Uh…You-You're…"

"Pregnant," I finish for her, smiling, "Yeah, about three months now."

"Oh, wow," She shakes her head, stunned, "I am…blown away. I had no idea."

"Yeah, well, we wanted to keep things on the down low for a while, but I guess there's no hiding it now."

"Yeah," She nods, knitting her brows, "You said 'we'? Um, if you don't mind me asking- "

"She means her and I," Lourdes puts her arm around me, "We decided to have a baby together."

Diane looks between the two of us, still utterly tongue-tied.

"Well, not together together," Lourdes clarifies her lie, "Pippa's just my surrogate. I didn't want to lose my figure."

"Oh, uh-"

"She's teasing you, Diane," I nudge Lourdes away, "My boyfriend and I are expecting."

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know, I like to keep my personal life sort of private," I fib, "But I suppose you'll eventually have to meet him now that we're pregnant."

"Yes, I'd love to!" Diane beams, "Congratulations, Pippa!"

"Thank you."

She looks to Jolyon. "Are you excited to be a big brother?"

Jolyon shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so."

She chuckles. "Well, it's a big responsibility. You'll have to look out for your new brother or sister."

Jolyon furrows his brows. "Why?"

"Oh, you know, making sure no one picks on them," She entertains him, "Especially Coach Negan, don't let him make the baby cry, okay?"

Jolyon looks off in thought, nodding.

I gently touch the other side of his head, bringing him under my arm. "Well, we'll let you get back to shopping."

"Alright, it was good seeing you," Diane pushes her cart in the opposite direction, "Congrats again, Pippa."

"Okay, thank you," I touch Jolyon's shoulder, "Come on, baby."

"Mom, how come you told Diane that you had a boyfriend?"

"So, she wouldn't think the baby was Negan's."

"But how come she can't know that?" He inquires.

"Well, because it's like we talked about before; Negan needs to focus on Lucille right now, so I don't want him to be distracted with the baby."

"Will he get to meet the baby?" Jolyon takes my hand, "Just once?"

"We'll see," I pat his hand, "Let's not worry about it right now."

"Okay…" Jolyon's quiet for enough seconds for Lourdes and me to share a glance, "Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Do big siblings have to look out for their baby siblings?" He looks up at me.

"If you want to."

"Did Aunt Audrey look out for you?" He asks. "To make sure you were being treated nice?"

I let out a small laugh. "Audrey was the only mean kid I had to worry about," My smile grows serious when I see his question is unanswered, "Um, but yeah, I guess she wouldn't let other kids tease me, or anything."

"Okay." Jolyon says.

"Oh. My. God."

Lourdes' exclamation makes me look up from the peculiar look on my son's face. "What?"

"Look at this!" She holds up a frilly white dress with yellow ribbons. "Is this not the most precious dress you've ever seen?"

"Uh, yeah, it's…cute," I look it over, "But I don't know what I'm having."

"It could be unisex," She suggests, checking the price tag, "You know, for like a christening, or something."

"We're not Catholic."

"So, it's a no?"

"It's a no for me."

"Tch, whatever…." She picks up a little onesie, "This one's cute and neutral."

"I don't want to look at baby clothes."

"Why?" She hangs it up. "You got all Jol's old clothes lying around?"

"No, but until I know what I'm having, I'm not gonna waste money on anything."

"Well, how about we look at other stuff like…strollers and shit?"

I roll my eyes. "That's what a baby shower is for, Lour."

"Oh, so you're gonna let me throw you one?" She squeals.

"Sure," I smirk, "My guest list consists of you, my sister, and my mom, so run with that."

"You seriously don't have any other friends?"

"Look who the fuck's talking? I'm your only friend."

"I've got friends."

"Cousins whom you never say anything good about don't count."

"Do you have cousins?" She sticks her hand in my popcorn bag, "And aunts? You know, for the shower?"

I scoff, "Yeah, but don't count on them showing up. I'm the knocked up pariah of the family."

"I'm your friend, Lourdes."

"Thank you, Jol."

I smile at his return from space, before sighing. "How quick do you think Diane will spread the word?"

"Oh, like wildfire."

"Goddammit."

"Oh, maybe we can have an office baby shower?" She raises her brows. "Rake in a few extras gifts."

I huff. "Lour, I don't want Negan to know."

"Pip, he's gonna find out. You work together."

I twist my mouth to the side.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking…maybe I should transfer to the middle school. I hear they're looking for an English teacher."

Lourdes scoffs. "You're not serious?"

I shrug. "It might make things easier. We won't have to see each other and- "

"Word will still get around," She cuts me off, "Babe, he's gonna find out. Hiding in a crowd of oily skinned middle schoolers is not gonna change that."

I sigh. "Let's drop it."

"I taught middle school for two years, Pip, and let me tell you; it's not worth it," She shudders dramatically, "It's so disturbing having to be around a bunch of thirteen years old who can't control their voices or their boners around the girls in class who have grown taller than them."

I laugh. "Oh my god!"

"It's true!" She insists. "Going through puberty is a weird stage but having to watch it is a whole 'nother horror."

I laugh at her more, which completely takes my mind of things for the rest of the afternoon.

…

"And from that day on, the littlest vampire brushed his fangs every night when he woke up and every morning before bed," I close the book, "The end."

Jolyon breathes through his nose. "That one was kind of dumb."

"Yeah," I agree, "You want to pick another one?"

"Yeah."

"Stay in bed, I'll get it," I push myself up, "Just tell me which one you want."

"Mm, how about 'The Snowy Day'?"

"Sure, that sounds like a good one," I take the book from the shelf, "Scooch over, punk."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"How do daddies makes babies in mommies' tummies?"

"What?"

"Well, you and Hannah's mom said that daddies make babies in mommies' tummies when they have sex, but how do they do that?"

I feel my cheeks redden. "Uh...I think you should wait until you're older to hear the answer to that."

"Why?"

"Because it's above your grade."

"Okay," He settles down into his blankets more, "Hey, Mom?"

"What?"

"Are you going to have a boy or a girl?"

"Uh, well, I don't know yet, babe." I sit down on his bed.

"When will you know?"

"Uh, next time I go to the doctor's, hopefully."

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" He asks me.

"Um…you know, I haven't really thought about it," I drape my arm around him, "I want a happy baby."

"How do you know if it's happy or not?" Jolyon lays his head against me.

I open the book. "I mean, I want the baby to have a happy life. Just like I want for you."

"Oh."

I tilt my head. "What do you want? A brother, or a sister?"

Jolyon shrugs. "I don't know."

I grin. "You can tell me the truth, I won't be mad."

"A brother," Jolyon admits, "I already have Hannah as a girl best friend, so I think it would be really cool to have a boy best friend."

I snicker, kissing his head. "Well, they'd be more than just your friend, baby, they would be your family."

"…Yeah."

I brush my fingers through his hair. "No matter what I have, the baby's gonna love you right away, I just know it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because who wouldn't love you the moment they met you?" I yawn, "I did. You were my favorite person the moment I first laid eyes on you."

"Will I still be your favorite person when the baby is born?" He glances up.

"You will be my favorite big kid," I kiss him again, "My favorite firstborn."

"I'm your only first, Mom."

I smile, putting my hand on my belly. "I love you, Jol."

"Mom?"

"Yes, Jolyon?"

"If the baby is part of our family, is Negan part of our family, too?"

I puzzle my brows. "Hm?"

"Because you said he's the dad," Jolyon reminds me and it makes sense now, "Is he our family, too, or just the baby's?"

"Um, well…he is the dad of this baby, but honey, remember I said that Negan isn't going to be coming around our house anymore."

"I know, but is he still the baby's dad?"

"Yes."

"So, he is in our family, too?"

I breathe, "I'm not sure, baby."

"You can't call me baby anymore, Mom," Jolyon tells me, "Because I'm not a baby anymore, because you are having a new baby."

That has sort of an oddly upsetting affect on me. My baby's not my baby anymore. Truthfully, I never even imagined having another baby after Jolyon. He was it for me and now I feel like I've somehow cheated us both by inadvertently getting pregnant.

"You don't want me to call you baby anymore, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Not even sometimes?"

"No, not ever again." He mildly makes adamant.

I sigh, "Okay."

"Pinky promise?"

I latch my pinky onto his. "Pinky promise."

After the last bedtime story, I close the door a crack and walk to my bedroom. Lourdes' snoring can be heard from the garage, but once I go back to my room she won't be heard. Both Cleo and Pip are on my bed, the best of friends, apparently.

I wash up for bed, brush my teeth, and get into my pajamas, if you can call them that. I pick up my phone from my night stand when I get an alert.

It's from my mom. She wants to know if Audrey's speaking to me yet. Oh, yeah, Audrey hasn't spoken to me since Sunday, when I told her my news over the phone. She'll call me by this coming Sunday, I'm sure.

I spy Negan's name in my list of previous text messages. It's been so long since I've messaged or called him. I wonder how he's doing, how Lucille's doing. I hope everything is going well for her.

My eyes keep his name under watch. I want to call him. I want to tell him. Part of me knows that everyone around me is right; I have to tell him. The rest of me knows though that it's not fair to do this to him. Not when his wife is battling for her life.

I go to my calls, find the last time I called him and hold my finger near the call button. I press it and put the phone up to my ear, listening. It rings…. rings…. rings again…rings a fourth time…

I hang up before it goes further. I can't do it. I sit down on the bed, rubbing a soothing hand on my growing belly.

"Sorry, kiddo."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Izzy: Yes, she's pregnant! Yeah, Pippa was the other woman from the comics ( at least in this story). Glad you liked that little bit.**

 **Kara315: I think she will be pretty adamant about keeping the baby a secret from Negan, in the notion of protecting him. Buuut….it all has to come out sooner or later.**

 **CLTex: I like Lourdes and Pippa a platonic power couple! I know, poor Pippa can't catch a break.**

 **HappyCamper11: I love the idea of Negan and Pippa being an ass kicking family with their kids lol! I can't promise anything, but I love it!**

 **Savioursgirl: Yes, finally Pippa can know the truth, despite the cost. I'm not sure how Negan would handle her telling him at this current point in time. It will eventually come out, but who can say when exactly and if that will change perspective. Pippa looks like Izzy Bizu.**


	51. Chapter 51

I wake up to Lourdes shouting in Spanish. As I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes, morning sickness hits me and so I go running into bathroom. After I upchuck last night's alfredo, I rinse my mouth out and then pad out towards the kitchen and the yelling with my fourteenth week pregnant belly.

"Fuck you, too!" Lourdes slams her phone down on the counter. "Sorry, Jol."

"Who was that?" I ask her, finding both her and Jolyon in the kitchen.

"Simon," Lourdes scoffs, flipping over a piece of French toast, "He wants me to come to North Carolina."

"He's not serious, right?" My stomach rolls at the smell.

Lourdes snickers. "Man, he must have had a pretty low opinion of me to think that I would just run on down to North Carolina to keep him company while he's laying low."

"Yeah." I open a window.

"Lourdes, can you put powdered sugar on my pieces?" Jolyon asks at the table.

"I think that can be arranged," Lourdes smiles, "How many do you want, Mama?"

"None," I fish out the cottage cheese from the fridge, "The smell is making me want to puke."

"Okay. What's on the agenda today?"

"Jolyon's got a dentist appointment today at one-fifteen," I tell her, scooping the cottage cheese out of the tub with a spoon, since I'm the only one who eats it, "Aside from that, stay home and moisturize my skin with cocoa butter while watching cartoons with Jol."

"Oh, you aren't planning on calling a certain person?"

"What person?"

"Oh, I don't know…" She arches her brow, placing two fluffy pieces of French toast on a plate, "A certain someone who may have put his seed in you, despite having a sick wife at home."

I look at her. "There's a child present and that's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Lourdes puts her hand on her hip, "I meant it; you should call N-e-g-a-n."

"I don't know if I can fit that into my schedule," I touch my belly, "I need to get a few new maternity clothes today after Jol's appointment."

"Mom, I don't want to go to the dentist."

"It's just for a simple checkup, Jol," I put the cottage cheese back in the fridge, "You're a good brusher and flosser, so there's nothing to worry about."

"I don't like the dentists."

"Well, we can go for ice cream after, if you're good."

"Ice cream sandwiches?"

"Ooh, yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay," He hops off his chair, "I have to go to the bathroom."

Lourdes looks at me as he turns the corner. "Really?"

I shrug. "What?"

"Stop trying to get Jolyon to like you."

"What?" I laugh at her, "Jolyon already likes me. I gave birth to him."

"Yeah, but you're acting like some divorced dad who's trying to prove that it's more fun at your house than at mom's."

I chuckle. "Except there's no divorce, I am the mom, and it _is_ way more fun here than at Eugene's…And am I not trying to keep on Jolyon's good side, if that's what you're insinuating."

"I think you feel guilty about this whole thing."

"What thing exactly?"

"Pippa," Lourdes huffs, "I mean Negan walking out of yours and your son's lives without talking to Jolyon, leaving you to do it."

"It wasn't Negan's responsibility to talk to Jolyon about it," I argue, "It was mine."

"Yeah, but now you have to deal with all the emotional shit Jolyon's going through because of it and the pregnancy, while Negan is utterly unaffected by it."

"I think he's handling enough of his own problems, Lour," I look down in thought, "Besides, any emotional shit that Jol's going through is my fault; I should have never gotten involved with Negan. Or Dwight for that matter. And I should have definitely never let Negan and Jolyon get so close."

"Well, you can't keep giving or doing whatever Jolyon wants to make up for that."

I go to retort, but Jolyon comes back into the room. "I'm starved."

I smile at him. "Well, come sit down and eat."

…

"How come these jeans don't have buttons or zippers on them?"

"Because they're for pregnant women who can't wear their regular jeans for a while."

"Oh, because their stomachs got too big to reach the buttons?"

"Well…yeah."

"Are you gonna buy a pair?" Jolyon asks.

"Uh, maybe," I say, apparently a little sensitive due to hormones, "I might just buy a belly band, so I can wear my jeans at home."

"But how will you button them when you get huge?"

"I am not going to get huge, okay?" I push the cart past the maternity pants. "And I won't need to button my pants with the band over them."

"Oh," Jolyon follows, "But won't they fall down?"

"No, they won't," My stomach starts to growl, "Hey, why don't we get something to eat? You hungry?"

"Yeah," He nods, looking up, "Can we go to- "

"If the place you're about to say is Lorelei's, then no we cannot."

"Why?"

"Because we eat there all the time," I answer, "How about we go to…"

I trail off when I feel my phone buzzing on my hip from inside my purse. I reach in and pick it out.

"Who's calling?"

I stare down at the name. "Telemarketer."

"Oh, don't answer it," Jolyon says, "It's a scam."

I chuckle, sticking the phone back in my purse. "You are definitely my son."

"Let's get pizza."

"Uh, how about we do that for dinner?" I suggest. "It's my night to cook and I forgot to set anything out, so we can order pizza."

"And share with Lourdes?"

"Well, yeah."

"Aw, but she eats most of it!"

"We'll order an extra-large."

"She'll still eat most of it," Jolyon sighs, "And you will, too, because you have to eat twice as much for the baby."

"I do not have to eat twice as much," I roll my eyes, "That's not what 'eating for two' means. And besides, you only eat like two slices anyway, so what's the big deal?"

"There won't be leftovers."

"And since when do you eat the leftovers?"

"Lourdes likes weird pizza."

"Babe, it's not weird to have toppings on pizza," I pick a blouse off the rack, "Some people might think we're the weirdos for ordering plain cheese and I actually like the margherita pizza she gets."

"It's got leaves and baby tomatoes on it!"

"I am aware," My phone starts buzzing again, but I don't want to get it, "We'll do a half cheese, okay?"

"Who's calling you this time?"

"It's probably the same telemarketer."

"How do you know if you don't see it?"

"God, what are you my mom?" I reach into my purse.

"No, I'm your kid."

I look at my phone and raise my brows. "Oh, it's your dad."

"Answer it!"

I answer the phone. "Hey."

"Hello," Eugene replies, "Is this a suitable time to talk?"

"Uh, I guess," I glance down at the curious Jolyon, "Jol and I are at the store right now."

"Oh, then I won't interrupt your out-and-about plans," He says, "I'll call again when it's a more proper and convenient time to talk."

"You can talk to Jolyon now, if you want," I tell him, "He wants to talk you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, however, I would like to talk with you at a better time."

"Oh, okay," I hand Jolyon the phone, "Here."

"Hi, Dad," Jolyon says into the phone, "Did you know pregnant ladies have to wear jeans with no buttons or zippers because they can't reach them?"

My eyes widen, and I try to silently convey for him to not mention that I'm pregnant; mouthing, 'Don't say anything about the baby!'

He looks at me, but I can tell he doesn't understand. "Yeah, but Mom's not gonna wear them, because she wants to wear her jeans at home."

"Jol." I exhale, before smiling politely at an employee that passes us.

"Oh, Mom's gonna have a baby," Jolyon replies to what I can only assume was a question on the other end, "She's pretty big right now."

I am not that big. I'm only fourteen weeks, despite what my bump might suggest.

"I'm gonna be a big brother," Jolyon continues, "When can I come stay with you?" He looks up at me. "Oh, okay."

We go on through the store. Jolyon talks to Eugene for about ten minutes or so.

"Alright, talk to you later, too," He finally says, "Bye, Dad."

I take the phone from him. "I really wish you would have let me tell him that I was pregnant, Jol."

"Why?" He asks me.

"Because…just because."

"When's August?"

"In a few weeks. Why?"

"Because Dad wants me to go visit him in August."

"Oh."

"Hey, Mom?"

I put my stuff on the conveyor belt. "Yeah?"

"Do you think Negan will sometimes want the baby to come visit him?"

I bite my lip. "Um…"

"When Lucille gets better, I mean?"

I furrow my brows, considering his question.

"You want to keep the hangers?" The cashier asks. "Ma'am?"

I blink over to her. "Uh, no, that's okay."

…

The weather's wonderful today. It's sunny and a little over seventy-five which is perfect. Lourdes and I took Jolyon and the dog to the river, since we've been cooped up in the house for a few days. Right now, the two of them are by the water, while Lourdes and I sunbathe a few feet away.

"I mean, if you think about it," Lourdes says, sipping from her coke can, "It's not that wild a thought."

"No, it's completely insane," I counter, rubbing some sunblock on my arm, "I could never do that. It wouldn't be right."

"I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but who the fuck cares what the right thing is?" She moves her sunglasses onto her head, "If Lucille beats it, then why shouldn't you tell Negan the truth?" She huffs. "As if he won't eventually find out."

"How could I do that?" I ask her, "How could I just break into their on-the-mend marriage and say; 'Hey, glad to see you're better, now I want your husband to be there for our child we conceived post your diagnosis'?"

"You aren't gonna bust in, demanding anything, but I don't think it's wrong for you to ask that Negan be in his own child's life."

I shake my head. "They tried for a long time, Lourdes. Then I waltz in and get knocked up, by accident, by him. It just feels like a slap in the face to someone whom I respect."

"Pippa, if you worry about everyone else's happiness, you allow yourself to come second," Lourdes waves back at Jolyon, "And, in this case, you'd be allowing this baby to come second…In Negan's life anyway."

"I'd feel like a twat to ask him to put his wife second."

"Well, she wouldn't if you really think about it," She lies on her belly on the blanket, "Negan would only see your kid every other weekend, or whatever, so his marriage can still take precedence."

"I don't know," I go back to reading the novel I'm thinking of assigning my students when school starts again, "It just feels cruel."

"Sometime life is cruel and it doesn't give a shit if it's bad timing or not," Lourdes shrugs, "It's not that you want to hurt Lucille, but she knows you and him were sleeping together and I don't think she'd be totally shocked, as hard as it would be, to learn that it had consequences."

"Yeah, but why should she have to face our consequences?" I retort, "Especially after everything she's going through?"

"Because that's what happens when you choose to sleep with a married man, Pip. You end up hurting people who shouldn't have had to be hurt."

I sigh, glancing over at Jolyon. "I tried to call him the other night."

She looks over. "And?"

"And I hung up before he answered…but he called me back."

"That night?"

"No," I shake my head, turning to look at her, "At the store the other day after Jolyon's dentist appointment."

Her eyes scan mine. "You didn't answer it."

"No, Jol was right there."

"Ah, Dios mío," Lourdes shake her head, "Mira, I'm not trying to be some pushy friend, but I just think he has a right to know."

"Yeah, you, my son, and my family."

"Is Audrey talking to you yet?"

"She texted me to ask when I was gonna find out what I'm having," I toss a cheese puff in my mouth, "So, it's not exactly speaking, but it's a start."

"Good, but that reminds me; I can't make it to your appointment next week."

"Oh, why?"

"My mom invited me to go see her sister up in Henricksson and I said I would, since I haven't seen her in so long."

"Oh, okay, no problem."

"Hey, did you hear about that flu or something that's going around the Midwest?"

"No, what is it?"

"They don't know yet, but apparently the sick are like trying to bite other people."

"Whoa."

"Right?" She makes a disgusted sound. "Freaky."

"Maybe it's mad cow disease," I say, "The Midwest has a lot of cows."

"Yeah, but I don't think it turns people into zombies." She snickers.

"They're not zombies, if they're still alive."

"Whatever," She rolls her eyes, humored, "They're trying to bite people like zombies."

"Mom!"

I look out. "Yeah?"

"Come swimming with me!" Jolyon calls.

I smile, putting down my book. "Alright, I'm coming!"

I rise and untie the bathing suit cover, revealing my two-piece maternity swimsuit.

Lourdes whistles. "Who knew they could nail a pregnancy bikini?"

I laugh, walking to the water. "Shut up."

…

"When's the doctor gonna get here?"

"Soon, honey. The nurse said she's finishing up with a patient."

"Well, she needs to hurry." Jolyon says in the chair with a travel magazine.

"Hey, don't be a brat," I tell him, "Have a little patience."

"I don't want to."

"Neither do I, but here I am being patient, so hush."

There's a knock on the door following, then the door opens. "Hello."

"Hi." I smile.

"How are we doing?"

"Pretty good," I report, "It's felt like a fairly normal pregnancy so far."

"That's good," She looks over at Jolyon, "And you must be the big brother."

"Hi." Jolyon greets her.

"Are you excited to find out what your mom's having today?"

Jolyon shrugs. "Yeah."

She snickers, looking around. "Dad couldn't make it?"

"Uh, no, I'm…a single mom."

"Oh, alright, then," She goes over to the sink, "Let's get started."

Dr. Jensen washes her hands, dries, them and then gets into a few drawers. She has me pull up my shirt, exposing my pregnancy, before squeezing out the cold clear goo onto my skin.

"What's that for?" Jolyon asks in the chair behind me.

"It'll help the remote find the baby."

"Oh, okay."

The doctor turns on the monitor. "Alright, let's see what we can find."

She moves the remote around on my stomach and it isn't long until we can hear the heartbeat. I smile when I see the silhouette of my nestled baby.

"Do you see the baby, Jol?"

"Yeah." Jolyon says quietly.

"Heartbeat is still good," The doctor notes, "Fetal development is also appearing normal."

"Can you tell if it's a boy or girl?" I ask her, trying to determine that myself.

"Well…" She studies the screen, moving the remote ever so slightly. She smiles. "It's a boy."

My eyes flicker from the screen to her then back to the screen. "It is?"

She points to the screen, showing me the evidence. "Yep, that's a little boy."

I break into a smile. "I'm having a boy?"

"You're having a boy," She smiles back, "Congratulations."

I chuckle a little, breath taken. It feels just as astounding as it did when I found out I was having Jolyon. For the first time in a long time, tears of joy well up in my eyes.

"I'm gonna have a brother?" Jolyon asks me.

"Yeah, Jol, you're gonna have a little brother," I look back at him, "Are you happy?"

He stares at the screen, nodding.

"How many copies would you like?"

I wipe my eye. "Uh, two. My parents might want one."

"You got it."

I continue to look at the screen until it's time to end the appointment. Dr. Jensen gives me two copies of the ultrasound and then goes over a few things with me about my next appointment.

I promised Lourdes I would call her as soon as I heard, so I do when we get out to the car.

"Hello?" She picks up almost immediately. "Did you find out?"

"Yes," I smile brightly, "We just left the doctors."

"And?"

"And…it's a boy!"

"…What?"

"I'm having another boy," I tell her, "The doctor gave a copy, I'll show you when you get home tonight."

"So…no girl?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "No, Lour, I'm sorry, but it's boy."

"Aw, fuck!" She complains. "I really wanted a girl! We've already got Jolyon."

"Hey!" Jolyon furrows his brows in the back.

"Sorry, bébé, but boys drool."

"No, boys and girls are both cool," Jolyon tells her, "Huh, Mom?"

"Yes, we treat people all the same."

"And all babies drool." Jolyon grumbles, looking out the window.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Lourdes laughs over the phone, "I just really wanted to buy that dress at Target."

"Well, maybe you can buy it for when you have a girl someday."

"Oh, how do you suppose that'll happen when I've sworn off sex until I find the right guy?"

"Find the right guy and let him put a baby in you."

She scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm gonna head to the store and pick up a few things. Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, pick me up some of those double chocolate Oreos," She sighs, "Maybe some of the mint kind, too."

"Are you going to drown your sorrows in cookies?" I tease.

"Pick up a thing of ice cream," She replies, "I might want a milkshake.

"Well, if you're gonna drink to numb the pain, then Jol and I will join you," I stop at a red light, "I'll grab some chocolate syrup and sprinkles. But only happy parties can have syrup and sprinkles, so cheer the fuck up."

She laughs under her breath. "You're a bitch."

"Says the woman who's bitching about the gender of someone else's baby."

"Congratulations, Pip," She finally tells me, "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks."

"Hey, if Jolyon's a joy to behold, then I'm sure this one will be, too, right?"

"Well, I do produce good babies."

"I won't challenge on you on that…" Lourdes is quiet for a second, "So, it's a no on telling Negan still, right?"

There goes my smile. "Uh, yeah, still a no."

"Alright," She exhales, "Well, I'm gonna let you go, so I get back to visiting with my aunt."

"Okay, see ya later."

"Later."

I look at Jolyon through the mirror and find him still staring out the car window. "You good with milkshakes after dinner to celebrate?"

"Yeah."

I knit my brows a little. "You okay?"

He nods.

"…Are you happy you'll have a little brother?" I ask him, a little nervous. "You said a few weeks ago that you wanted a brother."

Jolyon shrugs. "I'm happy, but…"

"But?"

He looks at me. "I think I changed my mind. I think I want a little sister instead."

"Oh," I chuckle, relieved that Negan wasn't brought up, "Well, I'm sorry, punk, but I can't control what I'm having."

"I know…" He sighs, "I don't have to share a toothbrush with him, right?"

"Why on earth would you share a toothbrush with anyone?"

"Because I asked Lourdes what the baby's gonna brush their teeth with the other day when we were brushing our teeth together and she said we'd have to share, because we're hillbillies."

"We are not hillbillies," I laugh, "We don't even live in the hills. And I am not going to make you share a toothbrush. Babies don't even have teeth for the first few months of their lives."

"Oh," He looks down, "Thank gosh, because I didn't want to share my toothbrush."

"I promise you won't have to share a toothbrush," I pull into the grocery store parking lot, "But you might have to share bedroom."

And by might, I mean definitely will.

"Oh, because we don't have enough rooms?"

"Afraid so," I park the car, "But the baby will sleep in my room for a little while, so you won't have to right away."

"Okay."

We go into the grocery store and while he's quiet, I don't get the impression that he's upset. We get the stuff I need from the list I wrote out while we waited in the doctor's office before we get the stuff Lourdes wanted me to pick up.

"Mom, where's Lourdes at?"

"She's visiting her aunt."

"Oh."

"Why?" I grab a thing of vanilla ice cream from the freezer section.

"Because she's always hanging out with us now that she lives at our house, so I was just wondering."

"Oh, well, Lourdes has a life outside you and I."

"Yeah, right," Jolyon chuckles, "Lourdes is sort of a nerd."

"A nerd?" I arch my brow. "Look who the heck's talking."

"I'm not a nerd, I have a life!" He laughs.

I laugh with him. "You better be nice, or else you can't celebrate with us."

"I want a milkshake!"

"Then shape up or ship out, dude."

"Okay, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

We turn down the next aisle, but as we do, my smile drops when I see Sherry and Dwight at the other end. I haven't crossed paths with them since Sherry beat the shit out of me on my own porch a few weeks ago. I pull the basket back, attempting to slip away unnoticed and avoid another ass whooping.

"Can we get caramel syrup, Mom?"

Jolyon's rather loud question sparks their attention, and both look up, meeting eyes with me. This is exactly what I feared would happen. Running into Sherry at the store after she knew about Dwight and I and seeing that look on her face. That look of anger coupled with hurt.

Her eyes travel down and I realize that it can get ten times worse when they widen at what I can only guess is my pregnant belly.

"Mom?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, let's go get some."

As we go back in the direction we just came from, I see her look over at Dwight and say something I don't quite catch.

We get the syrup, and, to my undying unluckiness, the store is fucking packed as if Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Even fucking self-checkout has a long line. I guess it doesn't matter, though. They're probably still shopping.

"Mom?"

"Huh?"

"What's the baby's name going to be?"

A lady ahead of us in line looks over and smiles at the endearing question.

I smile meekly. "Uh, I don't know, I haven't picked a name out yet."

"Oh, okay."

"Do you have a name in mind?"

"Um…Asher."

"Asher?" I scoff, tickled. "Where did you come up with Asher?"

"That's the name of Hannah's dog," He tell me, "I think that's a nice name."

"Oh, well, I don't know about Asher." I say, although I'd like to think Negan might think that was a badass name.

"Okay."

I smirk. "What about Julien?"

"No, that's too close to my name!" Jolyon objects. "You'll confuse us."

I snicker, "Alright, we'll keeping thinking."

"Pippa?"

I turn around and find Dwight behind me. "Oh…hey."

"Hey." He says back.

"Hey, Dwight."

"Hi, Jol."

I glance briefly at Jolyon. "Where's Sherry?" I put my hand on the basket, surveying the area. "Is she out slashing my tires and you've come to tell me?"

"No," He exhales, "Come on, Pip."

"She came to my house and kicked my ass, excuse me for thinking she might do something a little vindictive."

Dwight looks back, as if she might be behind him. "Yeah, I'm…I'm really sorry about that. I had no clue she was planning on doing that, until I saw her speed off in the opposite direction of my Mom's house."

"Yeah, well…it's whatever," I sigh, "Can't say I didn't deserve it."

"You didn't," He shakes his head, "I'm sorry."

I look him over. "So, are you- "

"The line's moving!" A crabby lady snaps behind me.

I move my cart. "Go around me then."

She grumbles as she does just that.

I peer back at Dwight. "You two are working things out?"

"Yeah," He nods, "It's…a work in progress, but we're patching things up."

"That's good," I nod back, touching my stomach out of mere habit, "I'm happy for you. I wish you two the best."

"Thanks," His eyes travel south, "You're, uh, you're pregnant."

"Yeah, sixteen weeks," I observe his face, "It's a boy. I just found out an hour ago."

"Oh, wow, congratulations."

"Thank you."

Dwight licks his lips, a little uneasy. "Um, Pip, it's, uh…" His eyes meet mine, "Is it- "

"It's not your baby," I relieve him, "It's the guy I was seeing from work's. I'm not far enough along for it to be yours."

"Oh, okay." He breathes out in a subtle _phew!_ kind of way.

"Did Sherry put you up to this?" I ask him. "Is she in aisle three, sweating bullets?"

"Kind of," He admits, "But I mean…I wanted to know, too."

I nod lightly.

"'Cause if it was mine, I would want to try to help you, if I could."

I look at him. "How would that work?" I shrug, truly asking. "What with your wife hating me and all?"

Dwight scratches his head. "We would work something out. She might not like it, but I couldn't just leave you hanging with a baby. I'm not my father."

I bite my lip. "No."

"So, is this guy from work…um, happy?"

I lower my eyes. "We're not together anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"He was," I clear my throat, "He was married, too, so…yeah."

"Oh…so he's not happy?"

I exhale. "It's complicated, D."

"Okay," He nods again, "Well, you'll do fine, right? I mean, you're a single mom now and you're good at it, so it'll all work out."

I smile shyly. "Thanks."

He puts his hand in his pocket. "Well, anyway, I should go."

"Yeah, go tell your wife she can breathe again."

He chuckles a little. "I'll…see ya around."

"Yeah, we'll bump into each other I'm sure."

"Yeah, small town," Dwight steps back, "Take care."

"You do the same."

"I love you."

I nod. "I love you, too."

"Bye, Pip."

"Bye, D."

He smiles at Jolyon. "Bye, Jol."

"Bye!" Jolyon waves.

I get back in line, smiling to myself.

…

The diner is empty as per usual on the midnight shift. Leda doesn't schedule me for these normally, now that I'm pregnant, but I agreed to cover for Mindy this time because of a family emergency.

I'm mostly just sitting at the counter with some caffeine-free tea, reading. When my back starts to ache, I decide to get up and move to a booth.

My parents were stoked about the news of me having another boy. Unlike Lourdes, they didn't have a preference, they were just happy to know and to receive a copy of the ultrasound. My mom wants me to name him after her father, Abel, but I haven't made any promises.

I look down at my phone every now and then, hoping the time will go by faster than it is. Louis said I can go take a nap in the back of my Jeep if I wanted, but with the way my back's been aching, I don't think it'd be comfortable.

I've been thinking a lot about what everyone's been saying since I found out I was pregnant. I've weighed the pros and cons in my head over and over again, but I just can't see the scale ever elevating the cons. There's just way too many in my opinion.

I mean, how the hell could I even fathom doing that to him? To Lucille? It's just plain fucked up to put this on Negan's shoulders right now. The timing isn't right and sadly I don't think it'll ever be right.

It's like I told Lourdes and my parents; I can't tell him now because Lucille's fighting cancer and if and when she beats it, I can't tell him then either because I don't want to be the first blow after all that ugliness is over. They both will have endured enough. I think I should leave them alone and let them get on with their lives.

I glance down at my phone. I do want to call him though. Part of me hopes that if I ever did tell him, he'd be happy. Embrace me, holding me tight, overcome with joy. But I also fear he would say that he can't deal with this shit at the moment.

I find his name on my recent calls. I missed a call from him weeks ago, which was probably only in response to me calling him, hanging up before I got an answer. He probably wanted to tell me not to call him.

My eyes travel down to my pregnancy that makes wearing this uniform, of which I had to size up twice, a nightmare. I take a deep breath and press the call button. I put my ear up to the phone, but only for a second, before I quickly hang up.

Goddammit. I forgot it's fucking one in the morning. If ever there was a bad time to call him, it's at the wee hours of the morning.

I put my head in my hands, exhaling. What the fuck was I just thinking? I just got done reasoning with myself why I shouldn't ever call him again. I let a little loneliness seep in.

The bell to the door rings as a customer enters.

I get myself out of the booth. "Welcome to Lorelei's," I greet, "Go ahead and sit anywhere and I'll get you some coffee and a…" I pause, "Hey, it's you."

The man looks at me, a little puzzled. "Um, I'm sorry?"

"I've met you before," I tell him, "Twice actually. I was with my- "

I stop talking when the phone in my hand begins to buzz. I look down and my face sinks with dread. He's calling me back.

"Are you going to answer it?" The man asks.

I look back up. "Um, no."

"I don't mind," He sits down in a booth, "I'm not on a tight schedule."

I nod, peering at the phone again. I take another deep breath and I answer it. "Hello?"

"Pippa?" God, it feels so good to hear his voice.

"Uh…" I turn from the customer, "Hi."

"What are you doing calling me this late?" Negan asks me with a groggy tone. "I thought- "

"It was a mistake," I swiftly defend, "I accidentally hit your number by mistake. I'm sorry."

He sighs under his breath. "Did you accidentally call me three weeks ago, too?"

I swallow the aching lump in my throat. "Yes."

"Alright then," He says in a way that is clear to me that he knows I'm lying, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I place my hand on the surface of the counter, "I called you by mistake."

"…Okay."

"I'm sorry to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep."

"Oh…"

"I don't get a lot of sleep nowadays," Negan tells and it sounds like he doesn't, "Lucille told me to go sleep on the couch because I was bothering her with my tossing and turning."

I chew the side of my lip. "Um…How are things?"

"She's sicker than a dog from the chemo," He reports, "But she's staying strong, which is more than I can say."

"That's good," I smile faintly, "Do the doctors- "

"The doctors aren't giving us thumbs up until after this round of treatment."

I nod. "Okay…How are you?"

"I don't know," Negan tells me, "I haven't really made time to think about it."

That saddens me to hear, but I continue to nod. "Okay. Remember to take care of yourself, too."

"…How are things over there?" He inquires, ignoring my advice.

"Um…" I glance down at my tummy, "We're good. Lourdes moved in a few weeks ago, so…we're official now."

Negan can't help but quietly chuckle below his breath, which makes me smile to hear some of the him that I know. "I knew you two were literal bosom buddies."

I snicker, carrying a menu over to the occupied table. "Only in your wildest dreams."

"How's the kid?"

I smile at the man when he smiles first, before mouthing to him that'll bring his coffee.

"Pip?"

"Yeah?"

"I asked how Jol was," Negan reminds me, "Does he hate my guts?"

My smile wanes. "Mm, no, he doesn't hate you. He was upset when I told him that you and I broke up and he misses you, but he's okay now."

"I'm sorry for running out and sticking you with that."

"It wasn't your job to tell him."

"I shouldn't have let you be the bearer of bad news."

I sigh, pouring hot coffee into a cup. "I'm his mother. I should've been more careful with who I let into his life, but I wasn't, so it was my responsibility to break it to him."

I realize that sounded a tad callous, as if Negan was a bad choice, but when it comes down to the wire, it's the truth.

"Yeah…" He exhales, "So, he's good though, right?"

"Yeah, he's fine."

"How are you?" Negan asks next. "You still going to meetings?"

"Um, I haven't been in a while," I admit to him, "But I'm still sober." I lick my lip. "I have to be."

"I'm glad," He says, "You'll go though, if you get the itch to drink, right?"

"Yeah," I nod my head, "I will."

"Good."

I breathe in. I want to tell I miss him and love him, but I think I'd cry if I did that.

"Are you at Lorelei's?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I can hear the jukebox in the background."

"Oh," I glance over at it, "Yeah, I've picked up some shifts here. I need the extra cash."

"Man, I could go from some biscuits and gravy."

"Well, you know where to find us," I clear my throat again, "You could bring Lucille. She might like it."

"Nah, I think the smells would make her sick."

"I can relate." I murmur, occasionally wanting to barf at the mix of aromas from the kitchen.

"Huh?"

"Uh, I said, I'll bring you your plate," I fib, "I have a customer waiting for their food."

"Oh, well, I'll let you get to it then."

"Okay," I say, disheartened, "Goodnight."

"Night," Negan replies, "I guess I'll see ya later."

My lips part and I feel on the brink of tears. "Oh, um, you mean at work when school starts?"

"Yeah, we'll run into each other from time to time, I'm sure."

"So, you aren't taking a leave of absence to be with Lucille?"

"She said she doesn't need me to sit around and nurse her all day," He informs me, "Wants me to get out of the house, so I'll be back in the fall."

I nod. "Okay."

"So, I'll see ya," He clears his throat, "I mean, like in meetings and shit."

"Um, actually, I, um…" I swallow another lump, "I was thinking about maybe interviewing for a position at the middle school."

"Oh." He sounds a little taken back.

"Yeah, it, uh, is a little further from Happy Hands, but I figured it was okay, because Lourdes would still be at the high school, so if Jolyon needed someone, she could get him."

"Yeah…"

I breathe out as calmly and as steadily as I can. "I just…I thought it'd be a good idea. Given the circumstances...it'd be easier this way."

"Oh," Negan says, "Yeah, I guess it would be. So, I guess won't be seeing you later."

"No," I shake my head, "Not unless we run into each other by happenstance."

"That's too bad," Negan inhales and exhales, "But best of luck to you."

"Thanks."

"It'll be a real shame not seeing you around."

"Yeah, same." I can't help but to look down again. _A real shame._ "Negan?"

"What?"

I take a deep, firm breath. "I'm- "

"Hold on," He interrupts, "Yeah?" He calls away from the phone. "Alright, I'll be right there."

I heard Lucille's voice in the back and it recoiled what courage I mustered up.

"I gotta go, Pippa."

"Okay," I croak, "Night."

"Night." There's a brief pause, before he hangs up the phone.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and get back to work. "Sorry about that," I sniff, put my pen to paper, "You ready to order?"

"Yeah, I'll have the patty melt with pepper jack."

I nod, casually wiping a tear from my cheek. "You want fries for the side?"

"Yes, please," The man hands me the menu, "Are you alright?"

"What?" I look at him.

"You're crying."

"Oh, yeah, I'm alright," I turn, "I'll get your order started."

I give Louis his first order in three hours and then begin to roll silverware in napkins. I glance over at the man every few second when I know he's not looking. He's just sitting there; reading a book he pulled from his jacket pocket.

I know I'm not mistaken. I have seen him before. The first time was when he asked Jolyon why he was crying in the parking lot of the pharmacy and the second time was when we were both at the Red Swing motel a few miles out from Southcastle.

Maybe that's it; maybe he's pretending not to remember me, because of what happened. It was when I was high, drunk, and smoking a cigarette, while arguing about the volume of the radio with the motel manager. Stark ass naked.

Jesus, I'd pretend I didn't know me either. But he was nice to me the next morning; he bought me coffee and gave me a bear claw. How could he not remember that? I think I even recommended this place to him.

In the midst of the awkward silence among the living, the jukebox starts to play "Crying." Of course, I start to tear it the fuck up over here. I refuse to look at the man now, knowing he's caught on.

It's not even that sad a fucking song. Usually only Billie can make me cry. I want to blame it on the hormones, but I know what this sudden flood of emotions is all about. I pull the bin where we keep the clean and wrapped silverware closer to me and in doing so, I accidentally knock over a few spoons and forks.

"Shit." I curse, looking down at them. Now they have to be washed all over again. That and I have to ease myself down to reach them. My eyes get blurry. "Fucking kidding me?"

This song fucking needs to end.

I furrow my brows when the song does end. Abruptly. I look up, as if someone heard me, before rising with the help from the counter. With the spoons and forks in my hand, I look over to where the jukebox is.

"It's Alright" begins to play. The man walks back over to the booth he was sitting at and my eyes follow him all the way back, bewildered.

He offers a friendly smile and then sips his coffee.

"Order up!" Louis calls, putting the plate out.

I snap out of it and grab the plate, carrying it over to the booth. "Here, you go."

"Thanks."

"Sure." I start to walk off.

"You wanna sit?"

I shift a little. "Uh, sorry?"

"Do you wanna sit?" He motions to the other side. "I wouldn't mind some company."

"Oh," I have a seat, "Okay, sure." I notice his book. "Nice choice."

He follows my gaze. "Oh, you've read it?"

"I've taught it."

"You know, I think I do remember you now," He reaches for the ketchup, "You told me about this place."

"Uh, yeah, that's right." I nod, touching my arm.

"Forgive me, but I don't remember your name," He extends his hand over, "I'm Paul."

"Pippa." I politely shake his hand.

"My friend's call me Jesus," He smiles in good humor, "You can call me that, if you like."

"Oh, does that mean we're friends?"

He smiles, snickering. "Well, we've met a total of three times, so I guess we oughta be."

I smile as well. "Do your friends call you Jesus, because- "

"Of the hair and beard?" He chuckles, tapping ketchup from the bottle, "Yeah, that would be the reason."

I nod, "So, are you on the road for work, or…coming from somewhere?"

"No, I, uh, just like moving around a lot," He answers, "I never like staying in one place for too long."

"Oh," I cup the underside of my pregnancy with my hands, "I think I would like that sometimes."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," I breathe out, "Getting cozy in one place for too long only ever caused me problems."

Jesus looks down. "You weren't pregnant the last time I saw you."

I chuckle. "No, I wasn't."

"Well, congratulations," He says, "Or is that one of the problems you mentioned."

"Oh, no," I shake my head, "It's not. I mean, everything leading up to it was and is, but the baby itself is not the problem."

He nods his head, thoughtfully twirling a fry between his fingers. "I take it you were just talking to the father just now and from I overheard, I also take it he's got other obligations."

I stare at him, heartbroken. "Um, yeah, he does."

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"No, you weren't," I tell him, "I was standing five feet from you, how could you not hear the whole conversation?"

Louis brings me a fresh cup. "Here you go, honey."

"Oh, thank you." I smell the peppermint rolling off the steam from the hot tea. I don't know why he's given this to me, but I'll take it.

"Was he the one with you at the motel?"

I look across the table. He does remember. Fuck. "Who?"

"The man you were the phone with?" Jesus clarifies, "You don't have to answer that, if you don't want."

"Oh," I glance at my tea, "Uh, yeah. He was."

He nods, sticking a ketchuped fry into his mouth.

I lick my lips. "He's married."

Jesus looks up from his plate. "Yeah, I guessed that when I saw you two that one time."

My cheeks pinken a little. "His wife has cancer."

He peers up again. "Oh."

I nod my head, trying to stifle tears in vain. "We broke things off because of it and then a weeks later I found out was pregnant and I can't tell him, so I'm stuck with having to raise two boys on my own, because I don't have it in me to tell him." A hot tear slides down my face. "Because I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of hurting him, or being hurt again," I wipe the tear, "He can't deal with a baby right now. Not while his wife is sick and maybe even not after she gets better."

"So, she will get better?"

"I don't know, but people beat cancer all time, right?"

"Right." He agrees under his breath.

I look him over. "I'm sorry."

He meets my eyes. "For what?"

"For just dropping all this shit on you," I chuckle with a croak, "I don't know why I told you all this, you're just…easy to talk to, I guess."

Jesus nods. "Yeah, I get told that a lot."

I smile thankfully. "I should get to back to work."

"There's no one else in the diner." He tells me.

"Yeah, but I should fill your cup up."

"I'm perfectly fine," He assures me, "Get off your feet for a while. It'll help you get back on 'em when you need to."

I smile a little more. "Thanks."

"No problem," He slides out of the booth, "I'm gonna go play that song again."

"Okay." I sit in the booth, off my feet. My eyes travel to the dark morning out in the parking lot. A hand smooths over my belly as I think about absolutely nothing, but to focus on the things outside.

A smile returns to my face as the song plays again behind me. I feel heartache in my chest, but I also feel hope there as well. I think I'm gonna be alright.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **CLTex: I know, poor baby! Well, Dwight and Sherry will be okay I think, now that they know the baby isn't Dwight's. Negan on the other hand…**

 **Savioursgirl: That seems to be the popular opinion; she needs to tell Negan.** **Yeah, she might have to face new challenges as the apocalypse hits**

 **P.S. the songs in the end scene are Roy Oribison's "Crying" and "It's Alright" by Curtis Mayfield and The Impressions, if anyone was curious.**


	52. Chapter 52

The summer's beginning to wind down, which means school will be starting soon. The start date is now the first week of September, instead of the third week of August like it was originally supposed to be. It's no skin off my nose. I got really pregnant really fast and it's made me tired more often than not. I've cut back on the shifts at Lorelei's because of it and have spent more time with Jolyon, who's coming around even more to the idea of being a big brother.

He hasn't mentioned Negan in a while, which is a good thing, because it's better for all of us to move on and accept things as they are. The only reminder of Negan in our house is Jolyon's glove and baseball, which remain where he stashed them, and the baby growing in my moon-shaped belly.

"Pip, your phone!" Lourdes shouts from the living room.

"I hear it." I waddle into the kitchen, where I left it on the counter. I see the name and pick it up. "Hey."

"Hi, honey," Mom sounds apologetic, "How you feeling today?"

"I haven't had any morning sickness for awhile, so I'd say pretty good," I answer, reaching down to give Cleo a loving pet on her oblong head, "What's up?"

"I was just calling to see how you were," She says in a way that makes me think there's more, "Have you talked to Audrey lately?"

"Uh, not since last Wednesday." I scratch under the dog's chin. "Why?"

"Just making sure you two are getting along...Are you gonna go with me Thursday?"

"What do I want to go to a wine and watercolors class for?" I huff, "I'm an alcoholic and I'm pregnant. What sort of mom slash grandma are you?"

"You won't be drinking," She retorts, "It's just for fun."

"Drinking's part of the fun."

"I'd buried you alive if you took one sip pregnant."

I can't help but chuckle. "No you wouldn't, I'm carrying your grandchild."

"Don't be smart, Pippa." Mom warns.

I breathe with my humored smile. "I don't really want to go, Mom. I'd just end up being the designated driver."

"I drink one glass of wine when I go," She tells me, "I know how to limit myself."

"If that was a dig at me, then nice burn," I glance into the living room, "But I was talking about a certain housemate of mine who's never shied away from chances to get tipsy."

"Well, think about it before you give me a definite answer," Mom asks of me, "I haven't seen you or Jolyon in a week. I'm even starting to miss not seeing Lourdes."

"It's only been a week, Jesus," I snicker, "Besides, you'll see me Tuesday at my appointment."

"...Right."

I arch my brow. "You are coming, right?"

"Um, well, that's sort of why I called."

"Aw, I thought you called to check on my well being," I wryly reply, "How come you can't make it? I thought this was the upside to me being pregnant close to home; you get the chance to be there for all this crap."

"I know, I'm sorry, honey," My mom says, "I really want to come, but one of your father's old work friends died on Friday and the funeral's Tuesday."

"Not to sound like a cold bitch, but can't Dad go alone?"

"Well, yes, but he's having a hard time with it," She explains, "It was Russ Perkins. You remember him, right?"

I sigh, "Yeah, I remember Russ. Alright, fine, go with him, but you owe me."

"Your father and I will buy you a crib for the baby."

"Nah, Lourdes' mom already gave me hers from when she was a baby," I tell her, "Apparently, she wanted to give it to someone who's not going to wind up a solterona."

I say the last part a little louder on purpose and Lourdes flips me off from the other room.

"What's the next most expensive thing babies need?" I ponder like a smart ass. "A stroller?"

"Fine," She groans, "We'll get you a stroller."

"Deal."

"I'll talk to you later, honey."

"Okay, have a good night."

"You too."

I walk into the living room as soon as she hangs up. And by walk, I mean shuffle in my weird pregnant way.

"The fuck you flipping me off for?"

"For calling me an old maid," Lourdes rolls her eyes, "Like you don't know."

"I didn't call you an old maid, I suggested that your mom thinks you have the potential to be," I look briefly over to the sliding glass door from where I can see Jolyon in the backyard, "It's not my fault your mom thinks I'm doing a swell job at doing what God 'put me on this earth for'."

Lourdes scoffs bitterly. "Yeah, right. God commandeth you to get knocked up twice out of wedlock by two seperate assholes. Pretty sure you'd get stoned in the Bible."

I laugh as I ease myself down on the couch. "And you wouldn't?"

"Oh, hell yeah, I would," She snorts after saying that, "God, I hate my mother sometimes. It's like she doesn't even care how that makes me feel."

I nod, sympathetic, before I raise an imaginary glass. "To being independent women who don't give a fuck."

"Here, here." She clinks her non-existent glass to mine. "Sarah's not going to your appointment?"

"No, everyone's a flake in my life."

"Well, I wanted you to have a girl, so quit guilt-tripping me," She focuses back to the T.V., "I've suffered enough already for not going the last time."

"You know the baby was gonna be a boy regardless of whether or not you went, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm still pissed about it."

I chuckle, looking at the television. "Why do you watch this?"

"To be up to date on the news," Lourdes answers, "There's a epidemic going on."

"In the midwest."

"The only thing that separates us from the midwest is West Virginia, Pip. That's one small ass state away," She reminds me, "And have you not been paying attention? The sick are eating people."

I make a face. "Have they quarantined them?"

"Yes, and the ones that have been bitten apparently."

My eyes catch a glimpse of movement through the corner of my eye. "Turn it off. Jolyon's coming inside."

She switches to a cooking channel and a few seconds later, Jolyon comes running into the house.

"Mom!"

"What?"

"I was just thinking," He walks over to us on the couch, "You know what we need?"

"A million dollars?"

"No, we need to get bunk beds."

"Bunk beds?"

"Yeah, for me and the baby."

"Jol, the baby has to sleep in a crib when he's born," I tell him, "He won't sleep in a big kid bed until he's older."

"How much older?"

"You were two, so probably not 'til then."

"Aw!" Jolyon slumps his shoulders in disappointment.

"You just want a bunk bed, so you can call the top bunk." Lourdes laughs.

"So?" Jolyon shrugs. "I'm older and won't fall off."

I smile. "Maybe when the baby gets a little older, we can talk about bunk beds."

"But that won't be for a long time!"

"Well, some things are worth the wait, yeah?"

He sits down on the couch, bummed. "I guess."

I put my arm around him, resting my cheek on his head. "It won't be as long as you think, punk, I promise. The time will fly by before you know it."

…

The middle school is smaller than the high school, but it's nice. All the halls are outside, which reminds me of the old high school I taught at in Austin. Still, I think I like that Southcastle High School is primarily an indoor campus.

Today's my interview for the position here. I'm currently sitting in the principal's office, waiting for her to come in. I'm a little knackered, which normally I wouldn't be. I ace shit like this; there's never been an interview that I didn't leave without having the job.

Still, I'm here trying not to fidget in the slacks and blouse outfit I got from the maternity section in Target, which makes me feel like a business casual porpoise. My feet are a little swollen and so they're howling in the flats that I managed to squeeze them into. I was going to wear the knock off birkenstocks I've been living in all summer, but Lourdes said it threw off the whole outfit.

The door finally opens and I glance over with a friendly smile, before I go to push myself up from the chair. "Hello."

"Hello," The principal greets back with a melodic voice, "Oh, no, dear, please sit. I won't make you get up."

"It's no trouble," I lie, willing myself out of the chair, so I can properly shake her hand, "I'm Pippa. It's nice to meet you."

"Allison Watkins," She introduces herself, shaking my hand, "Nice to meet you as well. You can sit back down, if you'd like. I know how hard it is to stand around while being that pregnant."

I sit. "How many do you have?"

"Two boys," She answers, "Is this one gonna be your first?"

"Oh, no, I've got a four year old," I use my bump as a hand rest, "He was a little unsure about not being an only child anymore at first, but he's excited that he's gonna have a little brother."

"How sweet," Allison opens a file folder on the top of her desk, "How far along are you?"

"Twenty weeks."

"Wow, only twenty? You look like you're about eight months."

I snicker at her exaggeration. I do look bigger than five months, but hey, it's my second kid.

"Well, I certainly popped when I popped." I reply, which is a dumb thing to say, but she thought it was funny.

"Have you and your husband picked out names yet?"

I stifle an eye roll at the assumption. "Uh, no, it's just me and I haven't found the one yet."

She briefly looks up at me. "Oh, I see. Well, good for you."

I think she's being sincere, but you never know with people when they say that. I just choose to accept it as a nice comment.

"Thank you."

"So, I see you worked at Golden Creek High School in Austin for seven years."

"Yeah, I started working there after I got my bachelor's and credentials."

She nods. "Then you moved to here and started teaching at SHS?"

"Yes," I say, "I'm from around here originally and I decided to move back home to be closer to family."

Allison nods some more, lifting up my resume to read what I can only assume is a file from my records. "How did you like SHS?"

"I love it," I tell her, "It's a great school with a dedicated staff. The students are academically some of the best I've had the privilege of working with."

"So then why are you interested in the position here at the SMS?"

Because one of the aforementioned wonder staff members got me pregnant and now I'm trying to conceal our love child from him and his sick wife, who is also the superintendent.

I smile, even though she's not really looking at me. "Well, as much as I enjoyed teaching such bright students, I have to admit that I found myself bored with the curriculum."

"Oh?" Allison looks up. "How so?"

"Well, it seems that most high schools have the same requirements as far as literature, no matter where you go, and as much as I love those works, it's awfully redundant to have to teach _The Scarlet Letter_ every single year."

She laughs. "I can sympathize. I was an English teacher myself and I can't tell you how many times I wanted to pull my hair out when it came time to read _The Great Gatsby_."

I urge myself to chuckle, which I do effortlessly. "I think that the middle school curriculum would be a refreshing change for me. I noticed that while there are certain learning objectives, the choice of literature is majorly up to the teachers."

"That's correct," Allison nods, "We may require you to have students read _Animal Farm_ , or _The Metamorphosis_ , but aside from that you decide the reading list, so long as it's grade appropriate."

"I see no problems with either of those books," I tell her, "I don't even see how they both can't be taught with thematic connections to labor."

Allison smiles brightly, which makes think she likes me. That is until her eyes gravitate south to my belly. "I really like you, Pippa. You seem to have an eager attitude, which I like, and according to your performance evals, it looks like you'd be a great addition to my staff."

My smile starts to lessen when the tone suggests that there's a but coming. "But?"

"But you're pregnant and it looks like you might be due in...February? March?"

"February."

"Right," She nods for the hundredth time with a sympathetic smile, "As much as I'd like to have you work here, I don't know if I like the idea of having to hire a substitute for half of the school year, when you go out on maternity leave."

"Oh, well, you won't have to," I say, "I'll only take a week or two. I don't need the full time. My parents are going watch the baby for me while I'm at work."

"Well, I know you say that now, but in my experience, a lot of mothers say that and then they change their minds when the baby's born."

"So...you want to give me the job, but you won't because I'm pregnant?"

She clears her throat. "I spoke with Avery Coolidge before the interview and while he did not know you were expecting, he said he'd be fully willing to accommodate your leave. He seems to really want to keep you and I honestly think that for now, it'd be the best choice."

I stare, feeling utterly hopeless. "But…"

"Look, if another position opens up at another time, I give you my word that I'll call you first, but right now, I think it's better if you stay where you are for now."

I nod, trying not to let tears well up. I clear my throat and rise. "Okay...uh, thanks for your time."

"It was really nice to meet you, Pippa."

I shake her hand and leave the office and the school. On my phone, I see I have a text from Lourdes from about five minutes ago, asking how things were going. I stick my phone back in my purse and get into my car. I sit there for a few moments, before I cry into my hands.

I fucking lied when I said I was bored with high school, or whatever the fuck I said. This wasn't about curriculum, this was about getting away from the high school to keep away from Negan. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?

This was the only chance I had; the only other place I know of that's looking for a teacher is fifty miles out. I can't move now and I definitely can't commute that.

I sniff up my tears, getting a hold of myself before I start the engine. I have to go pick Jolyon up from Paula's and I don't want to look like a sad sap.

…

The doctor's appointment goes over fairly quickly and in the same fashion as the last one. Lourdes didn't go with me this time either, because she had to go to the bank to meet with someone about all her financial troubles, including the foreclosure, so Jolyon was the only one who came with me again.

I think he likes going, because he knows there's a chance of either getting a sticker from the one of the nurses, or a snack from the cafeteria vending machines. Today was a lucky day for him, because with the rise and fall of my cravings and the nurse who thinks he's adorable just coming back from lunch as we were leaving the doctor's office, he got both.

"Does this count as lunch?" Jolyon asks, crunching on a cheeto.

"When have I ever fed you a small bag of cheetos and called it lunch?" I retort, chewing a slightly stale cookie. "I'll make you some mac 'n' cheese when we get home."

"No, we eat that too much!" Jolyon complains. "I don't like it anymore. You make it gross now!"

"Fine, what do you want then?"

"I want a quesadilla," He says, "But how Lourdes makes it."

"Well, I don't know how Lourdes makes it and she might not be home yet by time we get there."

"I don't like your mac 'n' cheese."

"Okay, I get it, I'll make you something else."

I'm only annoyed because I really want mac 'n' cheese, which I'll probably end up making for myself anyway. I have been making it a lot and while Jolyon has never turned his nose up at macaroni, I've been making it with white cheddar and cut up hot dogs...and pickles and olives. It's not the weirdest thing I've ever eaten since pregnant, but Jolyon can't stand it.

"I like Chip."

I look at him, puzzled. "Chip? Who's Chip?"

"That's what you should name the baby." He explains.

"I am not naming the baby Chip."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not."

"What about Larry?"

"No, not Larry either," I roll my eyes, "Are you just picking bad names on purpose to be funny?"

"I don't think their bad names," He looks down, eating another chip, "That's rude, Mom."

"Sorry, but those names stink."

"I have her phone right now."

I look over towards the open doors to the cafeteria.

"Because she wanted to get some rest while she's in chemo and she didn't want her phone ringing while she's in there."

I'm mortified when I see the person whose voice I thought I recognized walk in. He doesn't see us, distracted by the phone call he's in the middle of.

"Well, if she's up to it, I'll have her call you after she gets out," Negan says impatiently, "Look, I gotta go. I'll have Lu call you…Yeah." He hangs up the phone.

"Mom." Jolyon whispers, but in the nearly empty cafeteria, his voice carries.

Negan looks over and his furrowed brows relax as he lays his eyes on us. I feel so vulnerable, too stunned in seeing him and too afraid to look down to make sure my pregnancy is hidden by the table.

He glances towards the doors of the cafeteria, before looking back. "Hey."

"Hey." I say back.

His eyes blink to the left where Jolyon sits. A smile comes with a small, delighted breath. "Hey, kid."

"Hi." Jolyon greets shyly.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him.

"Lucille's got chemo," He tells me, coming over, "I, uh, I came down for some air and some coffee, while she's in."

"Oh," I scoot my chair in, "How come you're here instead of the hospital in Southcastle?"

"We get better health coverage here," Negan answers, looking briefly at the vending machines, "The bills are still piling up, but the stack's not as thick as it would be there."

Now that he's closer, I can see with the help of the fluorescent hospital lighting that he looks drained.

"I know we talked a few weeks ago, but how are things?"

"Um, not good." He replies, fishing out his wallet.

"Oh."

I watch him stick a dollar fifty into the coffee machine and stick a paper cup under the spout after pressing a button.

"How are things with you?" He inquires, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Did you apply for that job at the middle school?"

"Um, yeah," I bite my lip, "But I didn't get it."

"Why the hell not?" He asks, coming over to the table. "You were an okay teacher."

I chuckle at his attempt to joke. "I blew the interview."

"How'd you manage that?"

By showing up pregnant with your baby.

"Nerves."

"Huh," He pulls out the chair beside Jolyon's, "Well, you tried."

I look at him, spurned by what he meant. "Yeah."

Negan peers down at Jolyon. "How's it goin' with you? You been to the batting cages lately?"

"No, we have to wait to go." Jolyon tells him.

"Wait for what?"

"For my dad to get back from his friend's funeral," I cut in before Jolyon can spill the beans, "He wants to take him."

"Oh," Negan's gaze switches to me, "What are you two doing here?"

"I had a doctor's appointment," I say, meeting Jolyon's eyes, "Nothing important, just a yearly physical."

He nods. "It's good to see you. You look good."

"Thanks, so do you." I lie.

"Quit lying," He scoffs, chuckling under breath, as he stares down into his coffee,"I look like shit. I don't sleep."

I smile meekly. He really can't see my bump from where I'm sitting.

"You swimming like a champ yet?" Negan glances back at Jol.

"Yeah," Jolyon tells him, "I don't even need my arm floaties, but Mom makes me wear them still."

"What is it with moms and worrying about nothing?" Negan grins at him.

"I don't know," Jolyon answers, "Is Lucille better yet?"

Negan's smile fades a little. "No, she's still sick."

"When will she get better?"

"I don't know," He shrugs, "Maybe she won't."

The mother in me gives him a look, which he sees.

"But she's one tough lady, so she'll probably beat it," Negan adds, "Don't worry about it, kid."

"Can we go see her?" Jolyon inquires. "Like you and her came to see Mom when she was sick?"

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea, Jol." Negan replies.

"Why not?" Jolyon proceeds. "We're her friends. I can draw her a picture like I did at your house that one time."

Negan smooths his hands together. "No, I think she doesn't want any company at the moment."

"Can we see her later?"

"Jol, honey." I put my hand on his arm. He lowers his eyes. I feel bad for him. "Hey, why don't you get into my purse and go ask the lady for a soda for us to share?"

"I don't like sharing with you," He says, "You always drink it all because-"

"Okay, then you can have it for yourself," I interrupt, "Get the small size."

"Can I pick the soda?"

"Yes, but not that yellow shit," I tell him as he gets up from the chair, "That crap will eat your insides."

"Okay." Jolyon gets the three dollars out of my purse that's hanging off the back of my chair, then walks over to the cafeteria side of the room.

I wait for him to be out of earshot, before I turn my eyes on Negan. "Don't say shit like that in front of him."

"What in front of him?"

"That she might not beat it," I angrily retort, "He's too young to hear that."

"Well...it could be true." Negan looks away, drinking his black coffee.

I stare. "No joke?"

"Why would I fucking joke about something like that?" He huffs. "The doctors said it's spreading."

"But how? She's doing treatment."

"It's fucking agressive that's how," He licks his lips, "And the treatment isn't helping."

I sigh through my nose, upset. "Have her parents been down since?"

"Yeah and no matter fucking what I'm still fucking low life garbage to them," He stares back into his cup, "They're acting like I gave her cancer. They probably wish it was me that got sick."

"Don't say that."

"Hell, I wish it was me sometimes," He chuckles, eyes shining up, "God knows she's a better person than me tenfold."

"You're not a bad person," I keep an eye on Jolyon, "And you cheating on your wife doesn't mean you deserve cancer. No one deserves that."

"Still, I'd trade places with her if I could."

"I know."

He looks at me. "You know what she said to me the other morning?"

I flick my eyes to him. "What?"

"We got into a fight one night and I left for about an hour, went to some bar not far from home," He once again drops eye contact, "And when I got home, she had gone to bed, but the next morning when I brought her her coffee, she asked me if I had gone to see you."

My mouth parts, scared for some reason.

"I told her I hadn't and then she said 'too bad'."

I feel my eyes get a little watery. "Too bad?"

"Yeah," Negan nods in thought, "'Too bad'."

"What did she mean by that?"

"I-"

"It spilled a little." Jolyon returns to the table with the soda cup. "It's wet on the side."

"Here's a napkin." Negan slides the napkin from under his coffee cup towards Jolyon, who then sits the cup down.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

"Mom's gonna sign me up for t-ball soon."

"Well, that sounds like a hell of a good time," Negan smiles, "You'll have to remember the shit I taught you all those times we played catch."

"Do you want to come to one of my games maybe one time?" Jolyon asks, still trying to hold out hope.

There goes Negan's smile. It fades in the way that I know means that he knows he'll have to disappoint Jolyon.

"Uh, kid, I-"

"Mr. Smith?"

I look up, puzzling my brows at a chubby blonde nurse at the entrance of the cafeteria. She's looking our way.

Negan glances over his shoulder, which confuses me more.

"Your wife is done," She tells him, "She said you'd be down here."

"Alright, I'll be up in a sec." Negan informs her. When she's gone, he turns back. "I better go."

I scoff. "You're last name is Smith?"

"Yeah."

"That's the last name you've been keeping a secret all this time?"

"I never was keeping it a secret," He snickers, "You just never fucking bothered to look for it."

I raise my brows. "I guess not."

He smirks. "I'll see ya around. I guess at work afterall, huh?"

"Yeah." I nod, dreading that. "See ya."

"See ya," He stands up from the chair, "Catch ya later, Jol."

"Bye," Jolyon waves, taking his mouth off his straw, "Tell Lucille to get better."

"Yeah, I will." He nods, even though we both know he won't. He looks to me again, more soberly. "Bye, Pip."

"Bye."

I watch him go, until he disappears as he turns to the right upon exiting the cafeteria. Despite this run in pulling up the heartbreak I feel, I don't feel like crumbling like I imagined I would. I think maybe because I've sort of healed myself since that night at Lorelei's four weeks ago. Either myself or Jesus, not to sound all holy-roller-i-saw-the-light; that's his name...or his nickname, or whatever.

"We can't go see Lucille?" Jolyon disrupts my thoughts.

I look over. "No, baby, we can't."

"I'm not a baby," He gripes, "I mean it this time, Mom; you can't call me that anymore."

"Sorry, it just slipped out." I smile, mildly humored.

"How much longer are we gonna sit here?"

"Hey, give me a break," I chuckle, "My feet and back hurt from carrying this dude around all damn day."

"Can I have the pen from your purse?"

"Why?"

"So,can draw on the napkin."

I roll my eyes with a smile. "Fine, we'll move."

"We can stay, if you want."

"No, the more I keep sitting here, the less I'll want to move," I stand up, "Get your soda."

Jolyon picks his soda from off the napkin, revealing a splotch from where it dripped. On the other end, I notice a brown ring from Negan's coffee.

I don't know why it makes me think about what Lourdes and my parents have been pushing on me since I found out, but it does. I reach into my purse and retrieve the pen that I now remember I had stolen from his office at some point and lean forward. I scribble a quick "I'm pregnant" in the space inside the circle.

Jolyon's eyes follow my hand and when he studies the writing with knitted brows long enough for me to stick the pen back in my purse, he asks; "What did you write?"

"See ya later." I start to walk away. "Come on."

"Can I hold my soda in the car?"

"You have put it in the cup holder and leave it there until we get home."

"But I'll be careful."

"I've heard that one too many times to believe it."

I bring myself to a stop at the entrance of the cafeteria. I look back at the napkin left on the table. Some nurses have gathered around the spot, pulling the chairs back to sit and eat. One of them picks up the napkin, gathering her brows and then glancing this way. We make very brief eye contact before I lightly nudge Jolyon forward.

"Come on, punk." I say with an outward breath, a little relieved in knowing that the napkin will be discarded.

…

"I don't know," Lourdes twirls her fork around her chow mein noodles, "I'm not ready to be back on the dating scene."

"Well, then don't call him," I pop some orange chicken in my mouth, "He wrote his number on your receipt, he didn't ask you out. The ball's in your court."

"Maybe I should text him and tell him that I just got out of a bad relationship with a manipulative sociopath who ruined my life."

"Or you could just not contact him at all," I snicker while chewing, "You're not obligated to do anything."

"Maybe I won't," She sighs, going back to eating, "Simon fucked me up. Maybe the old me would call, but I'm not doing it this time. He seemed nice, but what if he's another Simon?"

"Did you ever think Simon was nice when you first met him?"

"I thought he was charming, but in a asshole sort of way...like Negan."

I nod, drizzling some more soy sauce on my plate.

"Funny to think I thought Simon was a better choice than Negan, huh?" She scoffs.

"Yeah."

"God, why are watching this?" She puts her hand up towards the T.V. where some cheesy, generic romance movie is playing.

"Because you turned it to this."

"I swear this channel makes that same fucking movie over and over again, but with different people." She groans, changing the channel. "Can't believe I use to like these."

I look up at what she's changed it to. "So you change it to this?"

"What? At least it's a better love story than the crap on the other channel."

"Yeah, but I don't give a shit about the love story," I stick some noodles into my mouth, "All I care about is the poor sons of bitches that don't make it off the boat, or freeze to death in the water."

She rolls her eyes. "What time are you picking up our other roommate from Pauline's?"

" _Paula_ and actually, I was wondering if you could."

"I don't know them."

"Yeah, but you're Jolyon's honorary mom in lieu of me, so she'll hand him over. And they're very nice people."

"Why can't you?"

"Because last week, she asked how the interview went and I told her they were gonna give me a call," I explain to her, "I don't want to tell her I didn't get the job."

"Why the fuck would she care?"

"I'm sure she wouldn't, but I'm still chap-assed about it."

"You should've fucking told Allison that it's discrimination to not hire you because you're pregnant."

"So then what? She'd hire me to avoid trouble with the labor board and then I'd go to work someplace that doesn't really want me?"

"She straight up told you she wasn't going to hire you because you were pregnant, that's against the law, Pip."

"I know that, Lour, but I'm not gonna strong arm my way into the middle school and be known as that bitch."

"It's not your fault they broke the law."

"It's done, Lourdes, I'm not gonna work there," I shake my head, "And Avery I guess wants me to stay on at SHS."

"Oh, maybe he likes you." She teases.

"As an employee."

"An employee who gets down with married men."

"Why hasn't he gone for you then?"

"Are you gonna be okay being there with Negan around?"

"Well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" I lick my lips. "There's no other schools close that are hiring."

"He's gonna find out for sure then, you know that?"

"Obviously," I retort, "Maybe I can convince him it isn't his." I look over at her as if I have a plan. "Maybe I can tell him I fucked some dude after we broke things off and wound up pregnant."

She raises a brow. "Negan's not stupid, Pippa. He's not gonna believe that."

"Why not? One time I fucked some random guy who chopped down my christmas tree in a bar bathroom."

"Negan's knows about that?"

"Yeah, he showed up to the bar coincidentally and ended up getting into it with the guy…"

Lourdes rolls her eyes. "Okay, but, no offense, you were a drunk then. Negan knows you've sobered up and have somewhat better judgement because of it."

"Because of him." I murmur, looking down.

"Even if he believes that, as soon as the baby's born he's gonna know the truth."

"Maybe not," I shrug my shoulders, "Jolyon doesn't really look like Eugene all that much. Just maybe his eyes..."

Lourdes groans, getting up from the sofa. "I'm going to bed."

"I'm just saying," I push some noodles around, "And I might not even bring the baby by work. My parents will be watching him while I'm working."

"I can't with you right now, Pippa," She turns before going down the hall, "I know this whole thing is messy, ten times more messier because of Lucille's cancer, but goddamn it! You're gonna have to face the facts that Negan will know one way or another and you have to be prepared for when that happens." She walks down the hall. "Buenas noches."

"Buenas noches."

…

"There's a parking spot right there." Mom points.

"I see it." I drive slow down the lane.

I agreed to go with my mom to Wine and Watercolors tonight after she's been begging me to for awhile. I really thought that with my liver issues on the mend and my recent admittance to being an alcoholic, she wouldn't put me in this environment, but I guess she thinks I'm a lot stronger than I suggest. I mean, I am, because I promised that I would be for my health and now because I'm pregnant, but this rec class blows.

I'm gonna be the youngest person there. Lourdes was supposed to go, but she decided to dip out at the last second when Jolyon wanted to go see this animated movie. I just know someone's gonna ask to touch my belly and then do so without confirmation. That shit drives me up the wall.

"You promise not to get turnt, right?"

"I don't even know what that means."

I chuckle. "I don't want to see that side of you."

"Hush, I'll be just fine." She looks at her phone. "Oh, Caroline's already inside."

"She's here?"

"Yes, you know she comes to this."

I bite my lip, before sighing. "Yeah."

"She's excited to see you," Mom lets me know, "I told her you were pregnant and she's so happy for you."

"She's happy it's not Dwight's." I dryly retort.

"Stop it," My mom opens the visor mirror to look at herself, "I think she'd be just as happy if that were the case, to be honest." She gingerly wipes a smudge of her lipstick. "That woman loves you like she gave birth to you herself."

I breathe in and out, not arguing with that.

When we get inside, the first thing I notice is the snacks over everything else. Not because a pregnant black hole with the design to consume everything in sight, I'm just hungry. I skipped lunch today after Lourdes' air freshener made me hurl out my breakfast. Oh, fuck yeah, they've got those soft sugar cookies that come in the plastic containers at the store.

"Hey!"

I'm distracted by Caroline's warm greeting. I smile as my mom and her exchange a hug and in that motion, she looks over at me.

"Wow, look at you!" She smiles even brighter. "You look absolutely radiant!"

"Thank you," I put my arms around her as she comes closer, "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," She gets a good look at me, "How far along are you?"

"Just about five months."

"Oh, my goodness, and what are we having?"

"A boy." I answer, even though I'm sure my mom's already told her.

"Congratulations!" She rubs my arm. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Thanks." I tuck some hair behind my ear. "Um, how are things?"

"Great, everything's going great," Caroline tells me, "The kids are doing alright. Much better than before. Tina graduated in June."

"Oh, wow, good for her."

She nods. "Yeah and Dwight and Sherry are maybe talking about trying for a baby at the first of the year."

"That's wonderful." I smile, genuine. "Good luck to them."

"I'm really excited for them."

"Me, too." I look over at my mom, who smiles lightly at me.

The class doesn't start for another ten minutes, so we grab some snacks and wine, water for me, and sit in some chairs behind easels.

It never feels awkward with Caroline. She's just that type of person. She doesn't even ask me about the baby's father, she just asks me typical pregnancy questions like if I've had any weird cravings, or what I'm planning on naming the baby.

My mom tells her that I'm thinking of naming the baby after my grandfather, which again, I've made no promises to yet. It's not that I'm opposed, I just haven't decided yet. I'm usually a last minute sort of girl when it comes to that. I didn't decide on Jolyon's name until it was time to fill out the birth certificate.

Mom's even got a middle name picked out, which she thinks will flow nicely with the whole of the baby's name. Abel Joseph Smith. Joseph after my dad. I shouldn't have told her what Negan's last name was.

I was perfectly content with letting the baby have my last name, but my mom's old fashioned that way. She said that Jolyon has Eugene's last name, so this baby has to have his father's last name as well. Hell, the only reason Jolyon's last name is Porter and not Barnes is because Eugene was there for the delivery, even though he waited outside, and for the paperwork afterwards. Negan's not gonna be there for any of that. But I won't argue with her; the baby can have his last name. That's about all Negan's ever gonna give him anyway.

"Pippa, save your appetite," My mom scolds me after my third cookie, "We're gonna go to Lorelei's after."

"Trust me, I'm not spoiling my appetite," I smile as I lick some frosting off my upper lip, "Nothing sounds better than biscuits and gravy with hash browns."

"I don't know if that's the baby talking, or just you."

"Just little 'ol me," I swallow, glancing around, "Little 'ol big me."

The art instructor comes in and begins setting up. Late comers also file in, complaining to one another about the picked over snacks. As my mom and Caroline talk about Russ Perkins' funeral, which I tune out, my mind wanders here and there.

The class starts at six-fifteen. The instructor says that we're gonna be painting some moor like landscape, which she presents to us in her own watercolor painting beside the blank canvas where she'll give demonstration.

I don't think most of the women here follow closely, they just do their own thing until they've accomplished their version of the scene. I know for damn sure I'm not gonna be able to paint that. I always thought that watercolor was like little kid art, easy and requires no effort, but fuck is it hard. That, or I'm making it harder than it has to be.

The whole time I'm ruining a perfectly good canvas, I keep getting the feeling that someone's staring at me. I mean, I've been getting a lot of judgy looks for being a pregnant woman at a wine art class, even though I am clearly not drinking, so it could be that. But from the corner of my eye, I keep feeling as though someone is actually staring at me.

It's sort of pissing me off. I fucking have a glass of water! After awhile, I casually look over to the right side of the room to confirm or deny my suspicions. My eyes fall directly on another pair of eyes and once they do, my hand pauses the brush I'm painting with. It's worse than I thought.

Over by the right side exit of the classroom, a woman with a silk scarf tied around her head sits, looking at me with clear, keen eyes. I look back, daunted as well as pale with guilt.

When I finally look away, I set down my brush and start to get up. My chair makes a quick scuffing noise that others notice, but ignore immediately.

"Honey, where you going?" Mom looks up at me in question.

"Um, I'm gonna go sit in the car."

"What? Why?"

Caroline also looks over.

"I just don't want to do this anymore," I whisper, taking off my apron, "I'm not doing so good, so I'll just wait in the car."

"Don't be silly, you're doing fine," She gently takes my arm, "It's just for fun, you're not gonna be graded on it."

"I can't," I mouth to her, looking her in the eyes with urgency, "She's here."

"Who's here?"

"His wife," I say in a hushed tone, grabbing up my purse, "I need some air."

Mom lets go of my arm as her eyes start to search for a woman she's never met.

"Pippa, honey, are you alright?" Caroline subtlety asks.

"I just want some air." I barely say, walking out of the classroom. Out in the hall, I heave a little, trying not to cry or upset myself any further. I tread to the front of the building, pushing the door out to leave. It's still light out and the temperature's nice.

I sit down on the bench right outside the community center, gathering myself. I sort of overexerted myself getting out of there, so I need to cool it for the baby's sake. I've never had stress induced cramps or complications when I was pregnant with Jolyon and I don't intend on having them with this one. I've heard too many horror stories that are unlikely to happen to me, but still.

The door to the center opens and I look over at the figure who's stepped out. Fuck. I turn my head, wondering if I should get up and walk to the car like I intended.

"Not much of an artist, huh?"

My mouth parts. "Um, no."

She comes over to the bench, wrapping her cardigan around herself. "Mind if I sit?"

I shake my head. "No, go ahead."

Lucille sits down about half a foot away from me. "It's so nice out."

"Yeah." I agree, not looking at her.

"My friend's been wanting me to go to this thing for months and I always made an excuse not to go, but I figured I'd cave in this time," She informs me, peering out at the cars in the parking lot, or beyond that, "Figured I had better, before I miss the chance."

I glance over at her. She's not looking for pity, or sympathy; she's just being candid. She's changed so much since I last saw her, which was back when she seemed to be in good health. She's still beautiful, but her complexion appears worn and pallid, even her lips. There doesn't look to be a single strand left of her raven black hair on her head. The scarf she's got tied around her head doesn't cover the baldness, it's tied to a knot that's been tucked in the front, exposing the back of her head.

"Negan didn't want me to come," She says after another minute, looking my way, "Now I see why. I had forgotten you come here."

"I don't," I reply with a rasp in my voice, "I just came this time."

"Oh, so it was a fate that we'd meet like this," Lucille turns her head, "If you believe in that sort of thing."

"Do you?"

"I believe that some things are accidents and some things aren't," She says, "I have no idea why. Physics maybe?"

I nod, biting my lip. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For sleeping with your husband," I feel my throat tighten, "I'm sorry."

She exhales softly, still staring out. "You know, when Negan was a kid, he use to bring home stray dogs a lot."

I knit my brows a little.

"He said every time he'd find one on the way home from school, or whenever he'd be wandering around like the strays he'd pick up, because his parents basically treated him like one, his mom would yelled at him for bringing it home," She scoffs, smiling, "But he'd always bring another one home, because they were always so grateful to have someone care about them."

I don't know why she's telling me this, instead of ripping into me, but I just listen anyways. I guess it's better than the alternative.

"He did it for the longest time, until this one time he brought home this one dog that ended up attacking all the other dogs and killing them," She goes on, "His mom tried to stop it, but it turned on her. His dad ended up shooting it with the hunting rifle he kept in the house."

She licks her dry, colorless lips.

"He said he learned his lesson and never brought home another dog," Lucille adds, "But the thing is, I don't think he really ever did." She clasps her hands together. "I don't think he brought those dogs home because they needed him, I think he did it because he needed them. I have no doubt they were grateful and loved him for feeding them and giving a home."

She inhales and exhales.

"That's why he did it; he liked being loved. His parents neglected him more than I think he even knows and so he got a taste of being loved or wanted and he's never gotten over it."

I nod my head.

"I use to think it was me," Lucille says, "I use to think he cheated on me because I couldn't have children. Lost the ones we could've had…" She sighs through her nose. "But I know now that it never had anything to do with me and had everything to do with him. Sad, really. It doesn't excuse it, but it's still sad."

"Yeah." I finally say.

Lucille looks at me. "How far along you?"

I pick up my gaze like a child. "Five months."

"It's Negan's?"

My eyes ache as I nod. "Yes."

Lucille nods, looking forward again. "He doesn't know." She says that with confidence. She knows her husband.

"No, I haven't told him," I tell her, touching my bump, "I can't."

"Because of me."

"It wouldn't be right," I admit, "Or fair."

"So, if I wasn't dying, you'd have told him?"

I furrow my brows, looking at her. "Are you dying?"

"Take a look for yourself," She dryly replies, "The doctors are giving me until February. That's if I keep up the treatments, which I don't know if I want to."

"How long if you don't?"

She shrugs. "They didn't say. They only encouraged me to consider lasting as long as I can for the sake of my husband and parents."

I try not to gather tears in my eyes. "I'm due in February."

"I know, I just counted the months in my head," She tells, "Perfect timing."

My breathing heaves faintly. I shake my head. "I'm not going to be with him. We ended things. For good, not until you died."

"What does it matter if you do?" Lucille meets my eyes. "Marriage is only 'til death do us part. When I die, Negan's yours."

A tear trickles down my cheek. "I know you must think I'm a bad person, but I never meant to hurt you and I never asked him to leave you. I didn't want him to."

"I don't think you're a bad person, Pippa," She surprises me, "I don't think you've been biding your time, waiting for me to die so you can have my husband either."

I wipe the tear from my face.

"But I know that you love him and I know that he loves you and your son, despite him telling me that he doesn't," She continues, "And I also know that he's a pretty tough asshole, but he needs someone to push him through. Alway has when the going gets tough, no matter what he'd try to tell you."

I stare, astounded. "You want me to be with him after you die?"

She breathes in. "I've always taken care of Negan. I know that I'm dying and I know it's going to destroy him; I'm the only person who ever loved him and cared for him in the ways that he needed, even though he constantly failed me and our marriage." She smiles faintly at me. "Until you."

I want to smile, but I can't.

"I'm not saying you have to marry him, or even be with him after I go," She exhales, "I'm just saying keep an eye on him for me. That's all." Her eyes travels down. "Let him get to know his…?"

"Son," I croak, "I'm having a boy." As soon as I say that, I feel a little kicking action. I put my hand where I feel it, smiling into a sulky chuckle. "He's kicking."

Lucille's eyes flicker up to mine briefly then back to my belly. "He is?"

"Yeah." I nod, "He's very active. Sometimes I have to stop what I'm doing until he quits."

"Can I feel?" She asks, before she reaches a hand over and places it on my belly.

I move it to where the baby's kicking. "Right there."

She breaks into a smile. Her eyes seem teary, but happy.

I smile at her joy, even though it seems so unfathomable that she'd be so happy. It makes me lower my smile almost immediately. "You can't tell Negan."

She looks up.

"I don't want him to know," I plead with her, "I just...I can't do it to him. Not now."

Lucille's smile relaxes and she takes her hand away when the baby stops, nodding. "Okay."

I breathe out, relieved. Tears flood my eyes. Lucille takes my hand in a comforting way and I cry. She pats my hand as I cover my eyes.

"No, it's alright," She soothes, "Pull yourself together. You're embarrassing me."

I sniff, drying my eyes as she gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"No crying," Lucille breathes, "Go on, say it."

"No crying." I say with an creaky voice as I hold back tears.

She exhales calmly, looking back into the parking lot. "No crying."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Sorry for not posting on schedule last week, I had a shit ton of essays and finals to do and they had to be priority.**

 **Kara315: Oh...sorry lol. Lucille did find out! But at least she seems to have a good attitude about it. I mean, is it fair to say that she might have guessed this might be the result of Negan's cavorting around?**

 **CLTex: Lol, I think a lot of people wanted it to be a girl! He already has a girl in Believe in Tomorrow, I had to switch it up.**

 **Happycamper11: Yes, the walkers are coming. Poor Negan's the only person who doesn't know, but it's a-coming.**

 **StTudnoBright: That's what everyone's afraid of! Jolyon and Pippa being seperated. I don't know if I have the heart to do that, but I don't know….**


	53. Chapter 53

"Oh, no."

"What?" Lourdes comes over.

"All the flights to Texas have been cancelled," I set my phone down on the table, "All flights are cancelled everywhere."

"Things are getting serious." She murmurs, walking off.

It makes me touch my pregnancy. I pick up my phone again and hit the call button. It rings until it goes to voicemail.

"Hi, Eugene," I start, "It's me. I just got a call from the airline saying that Jolyon's flight got cancelled and they aren't saying when they'll open flights again, so I guess he can't come out."

I can hear the news in from the living room where Lourdes went to listen in.

I sigh. "I'm really sorry, Eugene. I know you were looking forward to this and Jol's gonna be disappointed. Call me back when you have the chance. Hope you're doing well. Bye."

I hang up the phone and get up from the kitchen table. The baby kicks pretty fiercely. It's a little painful, so I stop by the archway. This is definitely Negan's child. Jol never kicked this much.

"You alright, mama?"

"Yes," I nod, breathing, "Is it bad for me to sort of hope that baby number two doesn't turn out like his dad?"

"Considering dad is Negan, I don't think it is at all a bad thing to want," She chuckles, "Let's hope for another sweet boy like Jolly."

"Yeah," I sit down beside her, "Though I would like to have some reminder of Negan in him."

"Fingers crossed it isn't the womanizing asshole trait."

"Yeah, unfortunately it was the womanizing asshole trait that made this little dude possible," I look at the television, "I can't believe this is real."

"I know," She shakes her head, "How the hell can the sick die and then come back to life? Maybe it's one of those things where the heart rate slows down, so it seems like they died."

I scoff, "This isn't some bad ninja movie."

"Well, explain it, then."

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know, I'm not a doctor. People die and come back all the time. Like, code blue or something."

"Yeah, but that's because they get code blued, dummy," Lourdes exhales, petting Cleo's head that's resting in her lap, "And they don't try to eat bite and eat people afterwards."

I wince at the news coverage. The reporter's standing in front of a Wyoming hospital that has been entirely quarantined because of the sickness that's reached the Rocky Mountain region of the country and is spreading down towards Oklahoma. Officials are concerned that it'll trickle westward or into the South, where it could then reach us. Right now, the reporter is saying something about the hospital's strict orders not to provide any information about the ongoings inside.

"Turn it off."

"Pip, we need to stay informed."

"I know, but it's sad," I tell her, "I heard earlier this morning that they had kids in there."

Lourdes turns her head my way and then turns the T.V. off. "We'll be okay."

I put my hand on my tummy, before moving to get off the couch. "I have to go tell Jol he can't go to Houston."

 **...September...**

There's a meeting today at the school. Despite all the crazy shit that's been going on, the board has decided to have school start the twenty-fourth of September anyway. A lot of people are up in arms about it, saying that it's irresponsible considering the rest of the country's going through an epidemic.

I'm not outraged or anything, but I agree on pushing it back until things are in the clear, whenever that will be. Schools spread colds and the flu like wildfire, I don't want Jolyon at Happy Hands and from the sounds of this nameless illness, it'd be dangerous for him and I to get sick. It goes after more vulnerable immune systems. They've asked pregnant women and small children to stay away from areas that produce crowds.

Which is why I gave Lourdes a note to give to Avery explaining why I didn't come to the meeting. I'm sure he'd understand. As worried as I am, I'm a little relieved. I don't want to see Negan yet, I'm not ready to face him.

When I talked to Lucille weeks ago, I came to understand that while she isn't my friend, at least not since she found out about the affair, she wants him and I to work on things after she's gone. Whether that means a relationship, if that's even possible at that point, or a friendship shaped around our son, she just wants me to look after him.

Still, even knowing I have Lucille's stamp of approval, I feel strange about the whole thing. Mostly because my head keeps conjuring up all these scenarios of what happens in the aftermath of her eventual death. In all of them, Negan's changed for the worst. Either we form a relationship and I'm unhappy with the person he's become, or we meet up again when enough time has passed and we're both happy, but he's still somehow different. There's still this kick to it that I can't quite describe because I don't know what it is. Maybe it's just the whole fucked up situation that's got me overthinking like an idiot.

Jol and I haven't really left the house much in the past few weeks. We've gone to my parent's house but aside from that, we've been a pair of shut-ins. Lourdes sort of falls into whatever we do now, but she'll leave the house now and then for groceries or whatnot.

The doorbell rings around one. It's most likely the book I ordered from the library. It's one that Eugene told Jolyon about and the library does summer book deliveries.

I open the door. "Hel...lo."

Ravinder stares back at me, just as surprised to see me. Doubly when she sees that I'm pregnant.

"Uh, hi, Rav."

"...Hi, Ms. Barnes."

"I see you ended up getting that summer job at the county library."

"Yeah," She hands me the book, "Here you go."

"Thank you," I take it from her, "And you got your license."

"Yeah, in July," Ravinder's eyes travel, "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes, I am."

"Oh," She nods her head, "Okay. Well, I should get going. Nanda will tell my parents if I don't get home on time from work."

"Oh, she didn't go off to college?"

"No, her university shut down the campus until health clearance."

"Oh, and your parents aren't home?"

"No, our oldest sister goes to school in Ann Arbor and since all airlines have stopped flights, they're driving there to get her."

I nod my head. "Well, if you two need anything, let me know."

She nods. "Okay. See ya when school starts."

I watch her step down from my porch. "Rav, wait."

She turns.

"I'm really sorry," I tell her, "I know you know about Coach Negan and I and…I'm sorry."

Ravinder's brows let up.

"The two of us should have never saw each other around our students."

"He's married."

"I…" I sigh, "I know."

She looks me over. "I guess it's none of my business."

"I'll see you later."

"Yeah," She smiles small and plain and waves, "Bye, Ms. Barnes."

"Bye."

Jolyon's standing in the hall when I shut the door. "Who was that?"

"The library," I extend the book his way, "Here's that book you wanted."

" _The Phantom Tollbooth_?" He takes the book. "Cool."

I smile. "Want me to read it to you?"

"Yeah," He nods, "Maybe the baby will hear it, too."

"Maybe."

"I got a good name," Jolyon says, walking to the living room, "I thought about it for a long time."

"Okay, shoot."

"Max."

"Max?" I arch my brow. "I think you're picking dog names, dude."

"Max is a people name."

"Yeah, but with the names you've been giving me, I can't help but think of it like a dog's name."

"So, no?"

"No, I don't like that name."

We sit on the couch. "You're just gonna name him Grandma's name."

"No, I'm not gonna name him Sarah."

Jolyon rolls his eyes at my joke. "The name she picked out."

"I didn't say that."

"But you haven't pick any and you keep saying no to mine and Lourdes'."

"Well, you and Lourdes have terrible taste in names."

"No."

"Yes."

The baby starts to kick again.

"Oh, see the baby is kicking to let me know he agrees with me."

"No, he doesn't, he's telling you he likes my names."

I chuckle, feeling. "You want to feel him kick?"

Jolyon nods. "Sure."

"Right there."

Jolyon puts his hand over the movement. His eyes widen, taken back. "Whoa."

"Cool, huh?"

"That's the baby?"

"What else would it be?"

"Gas."

I laugh. "It is not gas."

"Are you sure? You fart a lot now."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do, and you don't even say excuse me."

"If it doesn't make a sound, then I don't have to."

"Yeah, you do!" Jolyon laughs, laying against me. "It stinks."

"Sorry," I put my arm around him, "Alright, let's read this thing."

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah, Jol?" I open the front cover.

"Are we gonna get sick?"

I furrow my brows a little, looking down at him. "What?"

"Like the people on TV?" He glances up. "Lourdes said people are getting sick in frozen cow land and getting other people sick too. Are we gonna get sick?"

"No, of course not," I tell him, "We're gonna be fine. They'll find a cure soon."

"Really, because Lourdes said-"

"Don't listen to Lourdes and don't watch the news with her anymore."

He looks at me. "Sorry."

I exhale, kissing his head. "I didn't mean to snap, punk."

"Are you scared?"

"No," I shake my head, bringing him close, "I'm not scared."

"Why not?"

"Because come what will, we'll be alright."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I lean my cheek on his head, "We will."

"Okay."

…

Lourdes comes back from the meeting with a huff and a slam of the door.

"Hey."

"Hey," She groans, "That was three hours I won't be getting back."

"That bad huh?"

"Boring as fuck." She says from the kitchen.

I bite my lip. "Was Negan there?"

"No, he skipped because of Lucille."

I nod my head. "Okay."

"Bummed?" She comes into the living room. "I would've thought you'd be relieved."

"Why? I didn't go."

"Because you used not leaving the house as an excuse not to go, so you wouldn't have to see him."

"Oh, well, I was curious to know how he's doing," I yawn, "How Lucille's doing."

"You know how she's doing, because she told you." Lourdes retorts. "You were wanting to see if she kept her word and didn't tell him."

I twist my mouth. "I think if she told him, he would have called by now."

"Maybe..."

I'm saddened by the thought of him knowing and not reaching out. I know I've said all that I've said about the issue, but him knowing and choosing to ignore it is the worst thing imaginable. Even if it was something that I wanted at one time.

"Have you been telling Jolyon about the shit on the news?"

"...He walked in while I was watching yesterday when you were napping."

"Thanks Lour."

She scoffs. "It wasn't on purpose."

"You didn't have to tell him people we're getting sick."

"He asked, was I supposed to lie to him?"

"Yes."

"Well, we shouldn't. Things are getting pretty scary, Pip. It might come our way."

"Yeah, well, let's not start digging a bunker until the neighbors start trying to eat us."

"Shit, those crackpot bunker people might have the last laugh."

I roll my eyes. "Let's drop it."

"What if-"

"Lourdes!" I snap, turn my head her way, meeting her eyes. "Stop."

She stares at me. "I'm going to my room."

"Fine." I huff.

Jolyon stirs on the couch beside me, waking up from his nap. "Mom?"

"Hey."

"Is Lourdes home?" He rasps.

"Yeah, she went to her room for a while." I stroke his hair back.

"I'm hungry."

"Yeah?" I look at the clock on the wall. "I'll make dinner."

… **October…**

The phone rings. When I see its Eugene, I pick it up.

"Hey."

"Hello," Eugene greets back, "Are you well?"

"Yeah," I confirm, "We're okay over here."

"Is Jolyon at a satisfactory level of wellness?"

I smile a little. "Yeah, he's at a satisfactory level of wellness."

"Good to hear…" He clears his throat, "And the state of your unborn, projected bundle of joy?"

"He's good, thanks for asking."

"I trust your boyfriend is in good health."

I breathe through my nose. "There is no boyfriend. You know me, I fly solo."

"That is accurate."

I smile again. "How are you?"

"I am currently as good as apple pie in July."

I nod my head. "I'm glad."

"But after watching the 6AM news, I am a little apprehensive, understandably."

"Yeah, I know," I sigh through my nose, "I can't believe they're evacuating those neighborhoods."

"They're trying to keep the disease contained to prevent it from spreading."

"Any more than it already has?" I wryly reply.

"Correct."

I stare up at my whirling ceiling fan. "Are you afraid of it coming to Texas? Last I heard, it made its way into Oklahoma."

"I would be playing you false if I said I wasn't petrified of this medically horrific phenomenon."

I feel an odd feeling in my stomach. "Maybe you should try to come this way. It hasn't reached Virginia yet."

"Would that if I could, but the lone star state is on lock down at the all borders to keep out the sick."

"Yeah…" I touch my bump. "If I had known it was going to get worse, I would have told you to come then."

"I believe that," Eugene says, "Which must really mean we are heading for the thick of it."

I bite my lip. "Yeah...I'm sorry, Eugene. I've been such a bitch to you and you've never deserved it."

"Apology accepted."

" I mean it."

"I'm not in disbelief of that."

I smile. "Jolyon's around, do you want to talk to him?"

"That would be grand."

"Okay, good talking to you," I look towards the hall, "Jol!"

 **...November…**

Lourdes is talking on the phone with her mother in the garage. She sounds worried and angry, but I don't blame her. Lourdes' mother, along with her cousin and a large number of Southcastle's population have been relocated to the high school for shelter. It looks completely different on the news with barbed wire around the fences and armed guards and vehicles all over like ants.

The epidemic reached Virginia in earlier this month and it hit hard. We never went back to work in September, because of the government's orders for individuals to remain sequestered in their own homes as much as possible to avoid the sickness from either catching or spreading. That was back in September, now that it's officially everywhere, even in other countries it seems, D.C. has sent the military out.

Lourdes was relieved at first, thinking it would be safer, but something about it made me nervous from the get go. It means things are really, really bad, as if that wasn't obvious enough. Lourdes wanted to go find her mother to bring her here, but she can't get into the town, because Camden has shut off the borders.

 **...December...**

My parents have chosen to stay in their home, where they've spent all their lives since they were first married, instead of coming here. They want us to come over and I think we might.

It's not safe here anymore. Yesterday, I was out collecting snow for water, in the event that the city shuts off our water. My neighbor was out as well, but I knew something was wrong the moment I saw him not five yards from my house.

He was staggering lethargically as he came my way. I called his name, but it didn't seem to matter to him. He was a dead one, I could tell from the incoherent growling and the sickly hue of his skin. When he got close enough to grab at me, I was a scared, so I hit him with the metal pitcher in my hand. He grabbed my ankle, so I had to kick at him, losing my balance.

I fell hard on the ground, but continued to kick until I got his grip to loosen. I then used the pitcher to defend myself. I had to do it; that's what I keep reminding myself as the image of his blood and brain matter in the white snow appears, as well as seeing the blood on my face from the window. I wiped it off before I went back inside.

My sister and her family are still in Richmond. She said they'll come as soon as they can have clearance to leave.

I pick up my phone and listen to it ring for about five or six times before it goes to his voicemail. I hang up and look down at the paper in front of me on the table. I write what I have to and then fold it in half. I write his name on top. When we do leave this house, I'll leave it for him to read, so he'll know that we're okay.

 **...January…**

"Oh my god!"

I wake up to the loud cry. It's coming from downstairs. I carefully slide out of bed, trying not to wake Jolyon, and leave my childhood bedroom. I hear Lourdes wailing and even though it makes me uneasy, I go down the stairs to the living room.

I find her there with her hand over her mouth, staring at the television in what can only be described as horror. The baby kicks and it's a little painful, but I ignore it. The look on her face is making me feel pale.

I don't ask her what's wrong, I simply walk into the living room and see for myself. I wish I didn't. All I see is the ground, chainlink, and the track/football field behind it. There's gunfire and screaming and crying. The feet I can make out are military boots and civilian sneakers, both running and shuffling, limping.

"They opened fire on those people!" Lourdes croaks.

I go back upstairs to my bedroom. I grab my phone and call Negan. I soothe my pregnant tummy to try and calm myself as I wait.

"Come on."

The other end picks up. "Pippa?"

"Negan?"

"Yeah, it's me." He says with a gruff voice like he's been sleeping.

"Where are you?"

"At the hospital with Lucille."

I breathe. "Good."

"Why?"

I check over my shoulder. "That base they formed at the school? They just opened fire on the civilians. I don't know if they were sick, or what, but Lourdes' mother is there."

"Jesus," He curses quietly, "She can't get out of Camden?"

"No, they've got stations at every road out," I tell him, "We're stuck."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, we're fine…but I think we might have to leave soon."

"Leave where? You can't leave the town."

I glance down at my belly. "We can go through the woods. I...I think things are falling apart, Negan."

"What?"

My throat tightens. "Everything's collapsing. Whatever this is, it's killing everybody or else everyone's getting eaten by the dead...I don't think things can be fixed, it's too late."

"Stay where you are, Pippa," Negan commands, "If you want, I'll come get you and Jol."

"You can't leave Lucille."

"The hospital's being abandoned," He says, "I can bring you here. We'll close off the wing."

"No, stay with her, Negan. Don't leave her there alone," I wipe a tear from my face, "Besides, you can't get out of Soutchcastle."

"Like you said, it's going to hell out there. I can find a way."

"...Stay with Lucille. We'll be alright. I promise."

"Pippa, I-"

"I love you, Negan."

"Pippa, let me come get you."

I hear Jolyon move in the bed. "I just called to make sure you were okay."

I hang up the phone and look over at him. I smile.

"Mom?"

"Morning."

"I'm hungry."

"Okay, how about some powdered eggs?"

"Yeah, okay." He rubs his eyes.

I lean over and kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you, too," He stretches, "Who were you talking to?"

"Nobody." I lie.

"I heard you talking."

"Must have been you waking up from a dream."

"It seemed real."

I smile softly. "Go see if Gran and Pop are up."

… **February…**

We're moving on today. It's time. We can't stay; the whole neighborhood has left, except those who didn't make it and are either wandering in the street, husks of who they once were, or were devoured by those who wander.

We had to stay behind for as long as we did, but now it's time to go. We've got supplies loaded up in my car and my dad's. We don't have much, hence why we have to leave, but it'll hopefully be enough to last us two weeks.

I sit in my bedroom and look out at the backyard from my light green velvet armchair. It still looks normal, unlike the desolate front.

I was right; it all fell apart. The disease spread so fast and killed so many of the country's population, which then resulted in three-fourths of the population becoming those things. With no cure and no clue as to how to contain the crisis, society collapsed.

Everyone's left to their own device now. There's no help coming and seeing other survivors puts you on edge. You can't tell with people nowadays.

My phone died last night and there's no longer any power, so I can't charge it. It died in the middle of Jolyon talking to Eugene. He was upset, but he said he wasn't. We're one in the same, because I was worried by it, because now we'll have no contact with Eugene, who I am genuinely concerned about, but I remained with a brave face.

I haven't heard from Negan since we last spoke, but if I'm being entirely honest, I'm more concerned about Audrey and her family. The last we heard, she was still in Richmond, trying to get out.

"Pippa."

I look over by the door where my Dad's standing. "Time to go?"

"Yeah." He nods soberly.

I nod back, peering down at the nursing baby in my arms. "Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

"Alright, I'll take your bags." He picks up my bag and the baby's.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

"Love you."

"Love you, too, Pipsqueak."

After he exits the room, I spend two more minutes or so feeding Abel.

I don't know if Negan ever left the hospital or if he's still there, but some part of me knows that he's still alive. If anyone can push through, it would be Negan. Maybe we'll find each other…

I burp the baby and pack him up. I went into labor around five in the morning three days after my due date. That's why we haven't moved until now. I needed some time to rest and recover. I ended up naming him what my mother wanted. She didn't make it.

Lourdes gets in the driver's seat of my Jeep. In the back is Jolyon's booster seat and Abel's car seat. I'll sit back there with them and let either Ravinder or Nanda sit in the front, while the other sits in the space available in the trunk. They don't want to not be together, so riding in separate cars is not an option. My dad is driving alone, but I don't think he minds. He's got the dog with him. We looked for Pip when we left my house, but he got out and while Lourdes went back to look, he couldn't be found. I'd like to think he's alright.

I buckle Abel into the car seat where he sleeps. I look over at Jolyon, who's staring at his book. He's mad at me, because I lied when I said no one would get sick.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm not a baby, Mom." Jolyon grumbles.

Lourdes glances back. "Don't speak to your mother with that tone."

I sigh, climbing into the car. "Are you okay, Jolyon?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

He looks at his brother in the car seat. "He sleeps a lot."

I smile, "Yeah."

Jolyon pulls Abel's blanket up a bit because of the cold.

Lourdes fires up the engine and Dad starts his car behind us. I peer out the window at the house I grew up in and where my second child was born as we pull away.

The world outside is cold and dull. Extinguished. I don't know where we'll end up or if the world will ever spark any new flames of hope. I've got two boys to look after, which is it's own fire under my ass to keep going. I don't know what the world will be like in a year or two from now. But we'll be alright.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! This is not the last chapter of FYIWAF. I will be putting out 2-3 epilogue chapters that will be set three years after the collapse, as well as a seperate one-shot with an alternative ending. I will let you know when the last chapter is coming.**

 **Also, I know a lot of you want a sequel like I have done with SY, however with my school load getting a little more heavier in about two weeks and work, balancing two fics on top is sort of unmanageable. FYIWAF was actually supposed to be long, but I was having too much fun with it and decided to extend it this far. Thank you for the support.**

 **Savioursgirl: I know, I was tearing up writing that scene. I don't know too many people who would be as tough as Lucille about all that.**

 **Kara315: Yeah, I've always thought of Lucille as being a really strong character, despite the little we see of her, so I wanted her to be grounded and have more emotional strength than Negan.**

 **CLTex: I think Lucille is at that point where she knows she's dying and with Negan being a mess, she has to be the strong one. She's sort of shifted into getting her affairs in order and Negan's her biggest concern.**

 **Happycamper11: Unfortunately, school never happened, but he's gonna find out :) I know this latest chapter was really sober and a vague report, but they'll cross paths again.**


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